Love at First is Blind
by Kinsella
Summary: The moment that Scott Summers saw Jean Grey, was nothing to write a romance novel about. Gambit kidnapped the wrong girl…will she steal this thief’s heart instead?Expect the unexpected: ScottJean RemyRogue...And The Plot Thickens!
1. Awkward

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the X-men or any likeness thereof, nor am I making any money, so please read and review for compensation!

* * *

This is an AU based loosely on the movie.

* * *

The moment that Scott Summers saw Jean Grey, was nothing to write a romance novel about. There was no strong gust of wind that made her fall into his open, muscled arms. There was no light fall of snow, hard gale of rain, beautiful rainbow, or sunny sky. Instead there was a gray fog that covered everything in its path. It was a bleary, cold day, with rain that slid down your back as it drizzled lazily from the sky, and froze in puddles on the ground. It was wet and cold and dark.

The first moment he saw her, he did not think her beautiful. That came much later. He did not think her poised, elegant, radiant, or smart, nor did he find her funny, witty, full of life, kind or an absolute goddess. Instead all he saw was brassy red hair and a big fur coat.

When Jean Grey saw Scott Summers, she did not immediately feel the connection that said, "It's him stupid." Despite all her telepathic abilities, she did not know that he was the _one._ She did not feel an instant tug that sent her flying into his waiting arms to mash her face into his and to profess undying love before she fainted from the sheer pleasure of it all. She did not find him handsome or strong, faithful or loyal, smart or kind or caring or all the qualities that she came to love about his very being. Instead she saw a little boy trying to turn into a man.

There first moment was not one that would be remembered for the ages. It was not the kind written of in sonnets or plays or novels. Instead, it was quite the opposite. Scott was late for school, and he chose that exact moment to peer down at his watch. He opened the door, trying to decipher the little hands on his watch, when his Reebok encased foot hit a particularly nasty patch of ice, and he was sent flying forward, as he tried to catch his balance. His hands landed…..

On Jean Grey's breasts. Jean was late for a meeting with the Professor. He wanted an update on her progress at school, considering he was the one paying for it. She, by some hand of fate, chose that exact moment to look at her, rather smaller, more feminine watch as well. She was on the top step when the door open, and a boy with an angel's face flew at her. He reached out his hands and they landed on her rather meager chest.

His face showed shock, but she could not read his eyes beneath the pitch black sunglasses. His mouth was open in a little oh, but he seemed frozen in place. He was way too good looking for any boy, but the glasses shielded from Jean what she felt was the most important part of a person. They stood there like that, Scott staring into her black eyes from beneath his glasses, and Jean searching his face.

"Excuse me," she said, rather chillily. Scott looked down at his hands, and he could see the flush rise in her throat. He made a noise that was halfway a grunt, halfway words, and pulled them back, and rubbed them on his thighs as if they were burning. He then got a good look at the woman in front of him. She was tall and leggy, and even through his glasses he could discern she was a redhead. She was too slender, athletic appearing. She had tiny glasses perched on her nose, kind of like Hank's. She had books that were scattered on the porch now. She wore a floor length black fur coat that he suspected was not real.

"Uh…" was all he could form. Her face grew angry as she bent to pick up her belongings. He kneeled at the same moment, and they knocked heads. She went sprawling down the stairs, and he lost his balance and somehow managed to roll on top of her, till their faces were mere inches apart. He could feel her chest heaving beneath his, probably from exertion. Her eyes were very large and very deep.

"Excuse me!" she shouted, a voice that was very motherly and very, very shrill. He jumped off her in record speed, but only managed to find another patch of ice and fall on his ass. He was now soaking wet and cold, and to make matters worse he banged his head on the ground with a groan.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked. He lifted a hand and felt wetness, but he was not sure whether it was rain or a puddle. "Don't move!" she shrieked again. He wouldn't move, if she would stop her incessant screaming. She moved to him, leaning over him so he got a good view of the breasts that he had earlier been touching. She leaned down, looked him in the face, grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, and ripped.

"Hey!"

She balled it up and placed it gently under his head.

"Hold this," she said. He complied, as her voice was very soft and quiet, and actually, quite pretty, if a little stiff. "Can you move?" He went to nod, but it came out a groan.

"Yeah," he managed to reply weakly.

"Good. I need to see your pupils," she said, her hands reaching up to remove his shades. His hand shot up and gripped her wrist.

"That would not be a good idea!" he said. She looked perplexed.

"Well how am I supposed to deduce whether or not you have a concunsion from your clumsiness?"

"Find another way, lady," he said, and tried to sit up. He immediately saw black spots and felt dizzy, and with another groan, laid back down.

"Don't be stubborn!" her hand went up again.

"Look, if you do that, I'll blow you clear to China. Leave the glasses on!"

"Oh." She said. As if that explained it. She rocked back on her heels, resting her hand on her chin, and leaving a ring of dark stain around it "You're that Summers boy, I've read your file." She looked slightly pleased with herself. He just looked at her. "Oh, I'm Jean Grey. I don't know if the Professor has said," she began.

He cut her off, "Of course. The infamous Dr. Grey. He raves about you."

That made her grin like a cat with cream. "I'm not a doctor yet."

With a half-groan, half-laugh, "That's obvious. Help me up."

Jean squatted next to him, and hooked her arm under his around his broad back. He stood, leaning heavily on him. Jean thought he was quite heavy for such a slender boy. He grimaced in pain as the world spun dizzily away, only to slam back to order. He managed to make it up the stairs and into the foyer. The Professor was there to greet him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"He hit the ice. Fell," Jean said. "I can't tell if he has a concussion, but it's not a fracture. He may need stitches."

The Professor tapped his communicator that he wore on his blazer. "Hank, prepare a bed in the med lab." He looked at Scott, "Can you walk?"

"Lead on."


	2. Mismatched

**Disclaimer:** X-men still belongs to Marvel. Damn you Stan Lee!

* * *

So that was the infamous meeting of Jean Grey and Scott Summers. He found her stuffy, she found him clumsy and pert. Scott required ten stitches, but they did not have to shave his hair, thankfully. He also needed a new shirt, as he had just happened to been wearing his favorite one. So he sat in bed, nursing a ginger ale and watching Ghostbusters cartoons, wearing only pajama pants. He had worked himself into a foul mood, and to top it off, his head was aching. 

And all the Professor seemed to care about was Jean. Scott had heard endlessly about her. She was the first mutant he saved. He had not gone into details, but she was a strong telepath and a telekinetic. For some reasons, he had blocked the telepathy from her, allowing her only small bits until she was strong enough. He often remarked that one day, her power would far surpass his own. She was currently in her second year of residency, and a few months away from her doctorate.

Hank seemed utterly smitten with her. They sat and talked for hours about medical jargon and scientific gobbledygook, that just managed to make his head ache all the worse. They had lived in the mansion together, both being in their mid-twenties, and had often performed experiments under the Professor's tutelage, Hank preferring science, Jean medicine.

Warren was the worst of all. He was such a ladies man, and Jean was no exception to his baby blues and fluffy blonde hair and white wings. They flirted to no end, always playful, never serious. Warren had come to the school in Jean's last year, so they knew each other fairly well.

Only he and Bobby had never met her. Bobby had a deep interest, as she was, after all a leggy redhead. She found his jokes "cute". Bobby seemed to worship the very ground she walked on, and hung off her every word. But that was Bobby, prone to find something to completely consume his interest until the next thing.

Scott, on the other hand, despised her. No one had come to visit him to see how he was doing, except Hank who had made him lunch. Bologna sandwich and a bag of Lays. No one seemed to care that he was suffering from the worst headache in his life, which was pretty intense considering the fact he frequently suffered them from his powers. He briefly considered going to the Danger Room to work out steam, but the world still slid crazily around under his feet every time he stood up. So instead he watched Ghostbusters.

There was a knock on the door. He barked, "What?" and the door cracked open. Jean peered through, smiling slightly. She opened the door fully.

"How's the head?"

"Terrible." He said.

She came over and sat on the bed. She had pulled her long hair back in a ponytail, and it drew attention to her finely crafted features. She had changed her bulky sweater for a small black shirt and jeans that clung to slightly curved hips. She looked young and vibrant. But she was treating him as if he were five.

She on the other hand, was very impressed with Scott's physique. She had never seen a man so finely crafted on someone so slim. He had a ripped stomach, and arms that were heavily chiseled despite their lack of size. Muscles rippled with every small movement. His face was angry, and he had a slight bruise spreading from his temple. His skin, she noted, was pale and fine, and his features were very appealing, making him more beautiful than handsome, as Warren was.

"Anything I can do?"

He opened his mouth to say, "leave" but he couldn't get the words past his tongue. He shook his head and looked at the pillow in his hands.

"Alright then, I'll be going. Sorry we met the way we did, but I fear you'll be seeing a lot more of me as soon as I'm done residency. I plan to move back here. I forgot how much I love it."

"Yeah, well, I don't plan on being here much longer. In August I leave for Stanford."

"Oh," she tried to disguise the brief hurt that flared in her eyes at his curt tone, but he caught it. She stood, and patted his bed, pausing as if she were going to say something else, then leaving. The door slammed shut behind her causing Scott to cringe. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He made her think Very Naughty thoughts, and he was at least seven years her junior. He was not even out of high school yet, but he had a maturity around him that surprised her. And a heavenly body. And full, pouty lips that begged her to kiss them, and caress his chiseled jaw and feel if his skin was as smooth as it looked. She wanted to tousle his perfect brown hair till it fell in disarray. He's illegal, Jean! She scolded herself. But the Very Naughty thoughts prevailed. She thought there had been a connection, a brief moment of contact. Which was silly. He was a baby. And he obviously didn't feel it.

She was shocked at her thoughts. She had never been a ravishing beauty, being too tall, too skinny, with too much hair, and glasses. She had never had the chance to date as normal kids did, being comatose when she was twelve, waking up at fourteen and being institutionalized for two and a half years, until the Professor was her salvation. She was naïve, and had never really looked at the opposite sex as something to do with just that….sex. She slapped a hand over her mouth as though she had spoken the word aloud. Of course she had seen it, and dreamed it, but never had she actually imagined it. Or desired it. She'd been kissed and groped by kind men but never felt a stirring of passion as she did when she looked at the bare chest of a teenager.

"Are you okay?" Warren asked. This was more a man for her, with the same economic background, and with a smile that melted hearts, and not only the wings of an angel, but the heart of one too. But…she didn't. They'd kissed and fumbled back when she first arrived, but it had never progressed to more than that. Warren was an uncontrollable flirt, and Jean was just too naïve.

"Yeah," she said, her voice a little squeaky. "Just….hot!" she piped up, fanning herself and giving him a desperate smile. Warren looked at her questioningly, then just shrugged, and offered her his arm to walk down the hall.

Scott stared stonily at the television, wondering why he so desperately wished he could see the color of her eyes and hair and lips. He had never desired to see colors as badly as he did when she sat next to him, smelling faintly of roses and cinnamon. He could feel the heat emanating from her body. But he also felt that she could be a cold bitch, but she had extended him a polite hand of friendship that he seemed inclined to spit on. He lay back in the bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't get the smell of cinnamon and roses out of his head.

* * *

"Someone new is coming." 

"Huh?" Scott looked up from his bowl of cheerios, spoon halfway to his mouth. Bobby looked mischievous as always, as he whispered to him from behind a box of applejacks.

"Yeah, I heard Hank and Warren talking about it. A girl. Well, she's seventeen. They say she's southern, and they won't talk about her powers. All mysterious like."

Scott shrugged. Lately his thoughts had skittered around like a waterbug on a lake, never settling. He felt…anxious. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was a tension in the air that he couldn't identify. He had only seen Jean once since she had come to his room, but she had been engrossed in a stack of papers and he was scurrying off because he was late for school, again.

"I wonder if she'll be pretty." Bobby said, dreamily. He got a far off look in his light blue eyes, and ran a hand through his curly blonde locks. For all he was fifteen, he looked like a little cherub, who was only twelve. His cheeks were ruddy, his skin pale, he was average height and average build.

Scott paused to consider this a moment. A pretty girl, around his age, would certainly take his mind off a woman seven years older than him, who seemed to care more about penicillin than whether her socks matched. Which, as she stumbled into the kitchen bleary eyed, her hair unbrushed and knotted down her back, they didn't.


	3. Modern Day Angel

**Disclaimer: **Marvel's. Eh. Not mine.

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The Professor called them all into a meeting shortly thereafter. Scott was scrunched on the couch with Bobby, who was whining that he was missing his favorite television show. Beast was crouched on a chair facing the professor's desk, but he had turned it to encompass the whole room. Warren lounged against the wall, a grin on his face as he whispered to Jean. She flushed and smiled, punching him playfully in the arm. She had a lab coat on and looked as if she hadn't changed clothes in two days.

Scott heard the hover chair in the hallway, and sat up, poking Bobby to get him to shut up. He did so with a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. Warren opened the door for the Professor, who smiled at him, and took his time negotiating his chair behind his large desk. When he was settled, there was absolute silence in the room, and he sat with his hands steepled beneath his chin. He looked ill at ease, which completely shocked Scott. His eyes were deeply creased, his bald pate was shiny with sweat, and his smile looked more like a grimace.

His voice seemed overly loud in the small room, "As I'm sure you have heard already," he leveled his eyes at Warren and Hank. Hank looked guilty, but Warren just continued smirking, "we're getting a new student. Some of you may be familiar with her. Her situation is…extenuating, and fragile, to say the best. Her powers are out of control and are considered extremely dangerous. That said, I want none of you to judge her, or to make her feel like an outsider, considering that we are merely outsiders ourselves. She's at a very tender age with a significant problem. I have welcomed her here with open arms, and insist that you do the same." His blue eyes pierced them all as he looked around the room.

"Just spill it, Professor," Bobby said. "Scott can't control his powers and we don't ostracize him. One eye," Bobby said, playfully.

"This is serious, Robert."

"Uh oh, you know it is when he uses my full name," Scott couldn't help but grin, but the Professor's face remained impassive. Bobby straightened up, "Sorry, Professor."

"It's alright," he sighed, shuffling papers. "I understand you are anxious." His brow creased in contemplation as he slowly put the papers back in order. "It is Rogue. From the Brotherhood."

Hank choked on his water bottle, spitting it all over Scott and Bobby. Jean's jaw literally dropped, and she banged it closed with a loud click of her teeth.

"The soul sucker?" Bobby asked.

"No, Robert. Her powers are such that she 'borrows' parts of the psyche and the ability of mutant powers from her victims, rendering them unconscious, with just the mere touch of her skin." The Professor said, placidly.

"How awful," Jean said, sorrowfully, "not to be able to touch."

"Indeed it is. Now, she has come to us for help. And we shall treat her with respect and dignity, understood?" He lost the easy tone of his voice, and enforced his meaning with images of endless danger room practices. Scott heard Bobby swallow next to him.

"Yes sir," Scott said.

"Good." He cocked his head to the side, and smiled again, "I do believe she is here."

* * *

"Holy sh," Bobby looked at Hank quickly, "ingles."

"Nice," Scott laughed.

"Well, Bobbo, my sentiments exactly." Hank replied, with a quirky smile, cuffing the younger boy on his head.

The watched the girl get out of the limo. Her face was a frown, and she wore all black. Even gloves. Her face was made pale by layers of makeup, but her eyes and lips were rimmed with black. She looked at them, shook her head, and tried to get back into the car. Someone stopped her, forcing her out very much against her will.

"It ain't fair!" she screeched, and her voice could be heard echoing loudly. Warren came to the door, peering around them. He smothered a chuckle.

There was a heated whisper in reply, and then more screeching at the limo, before a few more bags where thrown, rather harshly, out at her. She barely avoided being hit by one and the limo peeled off. She stood in the middle of the driveway, back towards the X-men, in a pile of bags, looking all the world as if her dog had just died at her feet after saving her life.

Then she turned, and the image of dejected, heartbroken, innocent girl was replaced with sullen and angry.

"Well, are ya'll gonna be gentlemen an' get mah bags, or am ah just gonna have to carry them all?" She snarled.

"I think I'm in love," Bobby murmured, before running down the stairs to assist her.

* * *

"So Rogue, will you be graduating this year as well?" Jean asked, pleasantly, attempting a smile with macaroni halfway to her mouth, to break the tension. It was the first time the Professor had ever required a dinner, one he had catered by a very expensive restaurant. It was the worst experience of Scott's life. It just so happened he got wedged between Jean, a lefty who kept battling elbows with him, and Rogue, who kept stabbing her steak like she wanted to kill it, and eyeing him as if she were imagining it was really him.

"Only if Ashley continues doing my homework," she said, equally as pleasantly, in a falsely honeyed voice. She chewed her steak viciously and smiled rather meanly at the other redhead.

Jean choked and reached for a glass of water. Just at that moment, Scott was taking a bite of his salad, knocked Jean's arm, and she spilled her water all over his lap. Then she turned bright red, grabbed a napkin, and began blotting the crotch of his khakis (they were required to dress nice too, although Rogue wore black jeans, black shirt, black gloves, black scrunchie, for god's sake). This turned Scott a bright shade of red to match Jean, and then Jean realized what she was doing, made a choking, snort sound, and sat up.

Bobby was grinning like a fool. Hank was looking at his food and not looking anywhere else. Warren looked dumbfounded. The Professor was rubbing his temples and sighing. Rogue continued to saw at her food as if nothing odd were happening.

"Um. I'm gonna go," Scott said.

"Yes, Scott," the Professor said.

He fled the room, Bobby's grin, Rogue's scowl, and Jean's small, capable doctor's hands as if the hounds of hell were biting at his heels.

* * *

As Scott sat in his room, finishing up his art homework (how the teacher expected him to color anything was beyond him, but Hank usually helped with that), he heard a knock on his door. He put down the sketch and went to answer it.

Jean was standing there, eyes closed, mouthing something to herself. Her hair was pulled back but frizzed around her ears, her nose was marked red from her glasses, and her t-shirt was old, faded, and covered in paint splotches.

"Yeah?" Scott asked.

She jumped, banging her elbow on the door, and smiled at him nervously.

"We got off to a really bad start, can I come in?" she asked.

He quirked and eyebrow and stepped back. She walked in, and he noticed dully that she was probably his equal in height. She stood in the middle of his room, clasping and unclasping her hands, looking around.

It was devoid of personality, she thought. All the furniture was the same as in her room, just arranged so that the desk was shoved underneath the window and you had to shimmy around the bookshelf to get to the closet. Clothes were strewn about, haphazardly, but the only other thing around was balled up pieces of paper. Even the rug was standard issue Xavier, only blue instead of red.

"Um, sorry, I was just doing some homework," he said, hurrying around her and grabbing the paper on the bed. He was flushed, and he hid it behind his back, moving awkwardly to the desk without turning around, and stubbing his toe on something. He yelped and cursed, then smiled and opened a drawer and shoved the paper in. He didn't have a shirt on again, she noticed belatedly.

"May I see?" she asked, curiosity piqued. Why did they act like fools around each other.

"Um." Then he opened the drawer rather viciously and held it out to her.

She took the heavy drawing paper and almost dropped it. She couldn't believe what he had drawn. She hadn't thought his blunt hands, or uniform plainness, or lack of humor would allow him to create something so beautiful. It was she, complete with angel wings, bent over a microscope. The title was Modern Day Angel. She was wearing a lab coat, her glasses, but she had this look on her face, this small, secret smile, that made her seem incredibly...sexy. Did he really see her like that?

"Oh Scott," she said, and sat down heavily on his bed. "When did you…?"

"Um…when you were working one day I sat outside and sketched you. I hope you don't mind, the idea just came to me, we were talking about religion, and I thought it would be a nice play on angels, and you know I,"

"It's beautiful," she said, cutting off his ranting. He stopped, and his face was hard and straight.

"Do you want to be an artist?" she asked.

He laughed. "A pilot."

"Mile high club, eh?" she couldn't believe she said that. He couldn't believe she said that. They stared at each other with equally astonished expressions.

"Um, I just meant that heights must give you pleasure. I mean-oh my god." She clamped her mouth shut, shook her head and asked with her eyes still closed, "Can you please put on a shirt? I can't think with you like that," she waved at him, squeezing her eyes even tighter.

She heard rustling around and peeked at him, just as the shirt went over his head. She got a good view of his chest. And the way the muscles bunched and stretched as he moved. And the small line of hair that went from his belly button and disappeared into his pants…

"There, better?"

"Thank you," she said. "I know I should be clinically detached, but you do have such a nice chest." Where the hell was her damn turn-off button?

"So do you. I mean! Jesus Christ!" Scott blushed furiously and turned around to look out his window.

"Um, I'll let you get back to drawing." She said hurriedly, standing up quickly.

"Yeah, I'm sure you have hands on things to do." Scott clamped his mouth shut at the image that produced, of Jean at the dinner table, and her napkins, and that crinkle in her forehead as she worked so intently.

"Yeah. Um, goodnight!" she said, and scurried out of there. When she was gone Scott let out a breath. In the hall, Jean leaned her forehead against the wall and banged loudly.


	4. Real

DISCLAIMER: Still belongs to Marvel.

* * *

"You ready?" Scott asked Rogue. She popped her gum at him from between purple glossed lips.

"Yeah. Is that stupid boy coming?"

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, the one that follows me around like he's lost."

"Um, no he had a presentation early today so Warren drove him in."

"Good," she said, shouldering her backpack. She had gone with a little variety today, a gray sweater over a black tank and black jeans worn that they were faded gray.

"A little color?" he joked, "What, is it a good day?"

She scowled at him, as he held the door to the mansion open. She managed to catch an elbow in his ribs as she marched out.

"You shouldn't tease her," Jean said from behind him, as he rubbed his sore ribs.

"Would you rather I tease you?" He closed his eyes, shook his head, smiled hopefully at her, and left. Why did his voice always get husky around her? Why did everything he say sound so…so….sexual?

"You like her?" Rogue asked, as he slid in the driver's seat of his convertible. The Professor had given it to him on his sixteenth birthday and it was his pride and joy. Her combat boots were crossed lazily on the dashboard.

"Why do you care?"

"Ah've absorbed her. Ah know her," Rogue said, staring at the cracking black polish on her nails and popping her gum again.

"What? Can you not do that?"

She spit out her gum. "I took it up to quit smokin'. You don't know?" she looked earnestly at him. He hadn't realized how stormy her eyes were. They were troubled. Dark and dangerous. He wished he could see what color they were.

"Know what?"

"Mah powers. One touch and bam! I know all your dark dirty secrets, your life story, and have your powers. But you're left unconscious. Or in a coma. Or dead. Just depends on how long Ah hold on." Her voice trailed off, got low at the end, husky.

"That's awful." He threw the car in reverse and backed down the driveway. She was silent for a long time, then spoke up, in a whisper that he almost didn't catch.

"It ain't as bad as you would think," she said, pulling on her black gloves that lay in her lap. Then she laughed, and she sounded on the verge of tears. "Ah don't know why Ah'm telling you this. You just seem the most normal of them, Ah guess, and that ain't sayin' much. Ah can't control it. Ah hate it. Momma made me come here, to gain control, but it's her fault!" Her voice rose higher, got angrier, stronger.

"Rogue," Scott said awkwardly. "I can't control my powers either. I can't ever take off my glasses or else I'd blow something up."

"But they love you anyway," she whispered. "No one has ever loved me. Not Momma. Not nobody," she was quiet."We're here," she said, and leaped out of the car, and took off for school running.

Scott sat for a moment, staring at the steering wheel. He hadn't expected sorrow. She had been crass and rude from the moment she got there, making it clear it hadn't been her choice to leave the Brotherhood. But as determined as he had been to hate Rogue, to judge her, he hadn't expected her eyes to be so real.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Jean was staring intently at her microscope, studying the dorsal root ganglia cells of the frog she had just dissected, after injecting it's DNA with X-factor. She didn't hear him come in, until he dropped a folder next to her. She looked up, pulling off her rubber gloves as she did so.

"What's this?" she asked. Scott just motioned for her to open it.

It was her picture, finished with shading. The page before it had the grading. Scott had gotten a perfect score. And the teacher commented that the only fault was that the woman was so beautiful she couldn't have been real.

"She's wrong though," he said, his voiced low.

"Excuse me?" she asked, not sure whether to be flattered, upset, or just run from the room screaming. She just figured it was from being cooped up in the lab for to long. And teenage hormones.

"You aren't too beautiful to be real."

"Okay," she said abruptly.

"You have this annoying habit of crinkling your forehead when you work. That makes you real." He said, with a smile. "And sometimes your glasses leave little marks on your nose. Here," his finger poked at her, "and here. And then there's morning time."

Flattery. That's what she felt. And lust. He was smiling at her. That smile was sin, pure and simple. The smooth, even line of his lips around his perfect white teeth. The dimple in his left cheek. The cleft in his chin. She found herself drawing closer to his face. His smile disappeared, and it was replaced by something else. Awareness. Then his lips brushed over hers, so lightly…

"Scott?"

He pulled back abruptly, leaving Jean bereft and bewildered. And very, very uncomfortable.

"Oh, Ah'm sorry," she said, with no apology, "Am Ah interrupting?" Rogue asked.

"Oh no, not at all. I was just explaining to Scott my research. You see, the dorsal root ganglia is what transmits what you see and hear and feel, neurologically to the brain and spinal chord, and I injected the specimen with X-factor to-"

"Save it. Ah was just wondering if Scott would lone me his car."

"No way!" Scott said, moving away to give himself distance from Jean. What the hell had he been thinking? He just wanted to show her the picture. But she looked so…appealing at that microscope. And the surprise at the picture. Like she hadn't realized she was that pretty. Had he even realized?

"Ah need to go to the pharmacy," Rogue said hotly. "Yours is the only automatic. Ah can't drive shift," she growled at him.

"I will take you," he said. He had to get away.

"No, Ah need to go alone."

"Why? Come on."

"Ah need tampons!" she shouted. Hank cringed behind her in the doorway, turned on his heel, and marched away.

"Uh," Scott floundered.

"Come on, Rogue, I need a break from this anyways." Jean refused to look at Scott, and smiled at Rogue. Rogue rolled her eyes and marched away. "Thanks."

"For what?" Scott asked. Why did she make him so surly?

"The picture. It's not realistic though," she said.

"Keep it," he said, pushing it back in her hands. She didn't know what to say, but when she looked up, he was gone.

* * *

Yay my first reviews! I updated a little earlier than I wanted to, because I was so excited! You like it! Yay!

Ishandahalf: I was gonna drag it out...but I can't wait either. I have to set up a bit of plot around it though, but don't worry! And you, lucky girl, have the honored distinction of being my first reviewer ever! Hope to see you around more!

Jeanl- Thanks for the props-it's was an idea that struck me and I'm having a lot of fun with it! Don't expect it to be too closely related to the movies or the comic though-there's gonna be a bit of Kinsella zaniness!


	5. Conversations

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the world. Or the X-men. It's sad times we live in people.

* * *

"So what do you think of the Institute?" Jean asked, letting the wind whip through her hair. It felt good to be on the open road away from all the worries and troubled of the mansion.

"S'okay, Ah guess, if you like all that 'peaceful coexistence' bullshit Xavier spoonfeeds down your throat." Rogue answered.

"I do actually," Jean said. "I know it seems hard to understand, but it's better than thinking we're better, or that they're better. It's always been like this, since the beginning of time. Blacks and whites, males and females, Jews and Germans," Jean said.

"You only say that cause he actually helped you." Rogue retorted, roughly.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah absorbed you, remember," Rogue said, tapping her head. "You're in here, like all th'others. Ah know about you, what happened, and what he did. But he can't make them go away. No one can," Rogue said, gloomily.

"What do you mean?"

"The voices. Specially hers."

"Who?" Jean asked, concern coloring her voice.

"No one," Rogue said. "Stop here."

Jean did so and Rogue hurried out of the car. She came back a few minutes later with a white pharmacy bag, that didn't look like tampons. But Jean didn't pry. Even if she wished to know what the girl was thinking, the first time Jean had reached out to touch her mind, she recoiled in shock. The girl's head was a mess. So many voices, all angry, screaming, crying. It was void, a dark endless void that had threatened to suck her in.

"It takes time for him to help, you know. I am still working to perfect my powers. I know there is more that I could do," Jean said, letting the frustration color her voice, "But if I let it all in at once, it's to much. I hear them too."

"What?"

"The voices. Only it's everyone. All of them. At once."

"Guess Ah ain't the only one fucked up."

"No, Rogue," Jean said, with a startled laugh. "We're all fucked up. Just some of us hide it well."

"Is that why you were snogging a seventeen year old?"

"Excuse me?" Jean answered.

"Ah mean, Ah'll give ya he's kinda hot, if you like that, Ah'm perfect and Ah know it routine. But come on, grandma, don't ya think that's like, statutory, or something?"

"I don't know what you think you saw," Jean said. "He was just showing me a picture."

"No, no let me guess, gathering saliva for your research, Doctor?" Rogue laughed, a loud, brittle sound. Jean just shook her head, but a smile played on her lips.

"Alright, I know. But he started it."

Rogue looked at her with eyebrows quirked in disbelief. A laugh slipped out, short and loud. Looking at her with a conspiratory smile, Jean hadn't realized her eyes were so green.

"Come on, do you really believe that, Ms. Oops I spilled water, let me just get that for you."

Jean snickered. Rogue's look grew even more dubious. Was she really joking? With Ms. Strait-laced Goody Two Shoes? God, she missed the Brotherhood. At least she hadn't felt bad joking with them. Jean looked like she had never even heard of the word sex. Or killed anybody, for that matter.

"Xavier's not a bad guy. He'll help you. He's helped all of us."

"You sound just as brainwashed as the rest of them," Rogue said. "Xavier is good. Eat your vegetables. Xavier is good," she mimicked.

Jean bit her lips from a nasty reply. The girl didn't even want to try. She just sat there with a scowl on her face, like she didn't care. Jean decided to ignore her. That's when she started screaming.

* * *

"She's gone." The woman said, compressing her lips and staring at the man before her with cold eyes.

"What? You promised her to me!" He shouted, spittle from his mouth.

"I know I did. But the situation has changed."

"Situation? The only situation here is that I am one specimen short! I need that girl, and if you don't want it to be you, I suggest you find her for me!" The man sat back, his hands crossed pleasantly over his chest, and a smile on his face. It sent chills down her spine.

"I'll see what I can do," she said.

"Do that. I'll be checking on you in a few days. I expect results."

"Yes, Master."

* * *

"You wanted to see me? I told you we couldn't meet anymore," Scott said, guiltily, ducking his head so he wouldn't be seen. "I'd be killed if they saw me with you."

"Eh? Live a little dangerously, I say."

"What do you want?"

"No 'ello, nice t'see you? I missed you to, Scotty-boy."

"Look, Gambit, get to the point, already. I owe you one, but it will only get you so far."

The man across from him took a long puff on his cigarette, then crushed it out. In the smoke of the bar his eyes glittered dangerously through the gloom.

"My…employer wishes to obtain somet'ing. Somet'ing you have dat is very, very valuable."

"Something I have?"

"Well, de X-men."

"And? I can't steal from the X-men!"

"No, but I can," the grin that he flashed Scott had made a thousand women fall at his feet. Now it only caused Scott to seethe in anger.

"What, you want me to just say, look Professor! This is Gambit! The guy who's been collectively kicking our asses from day one! He says he's _changed_ and now he wants to be an X-man. Let's all hold hands and sing Kumbaya."

"Maybe wit' a bit less sarcasm. You could try…I don't know…smiling a bit?"

"I'm outta here." Scott rose.

Gambit's hand reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. "Dat would not be a good idea, mon ami."

"And why not?"

"If you value dat pretty little redhead's life, you need t'listen t'me."

"Trust a thief?"

Gambit just smiled. "You owe me."

"This is different. This is betrayal."

"Only if dey find out. Relax. Trust ol'Gambit."

"When Hell freezes, LeBeau."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

ingrid: Thanks! I'll see what I can do ;)

ishandahalf: What? Another chapter so soon? And was that Gambit?

So people, this leaves us with a few questions. What was in Rogue's bag? Who is the voice Rogue hears? What does Scott owe Gambit for? Who is the redhead? Who were those evil nasties talking? Just wait and see what I have in store! More loveable awkwardness coming soon!


	6. She

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the X-men and I'm not making any money from this.

* * *

"What happened?"

Jean coughed. "Where have you been? You smell like a chimney."

"Just hanging out with some friends. Is she okay?"

"I don't know," Jean said, peering into the Medical Bay. Rogue lay on a bed, looking rather thin and frail in the white hospital gown. The Professor was with her, but she was closed mouth and staring at the ceiling. "She just lost it. She started screaming, it was like her whole personality changed. She kept asking for help. Then she passed out. She woke up before we got here, acting like nothing had happened. I tried to give her a physical, but, you know."

Scott couldn't help but grin. "I can just imagine how that was."

"Oh I bet you can. Two redheads, every man's fantasy." Damn that conscious. Where was it when she needed it? Off making googly eyes at a seventeen year old, that's where.

"Not bad, considering the only color I see is red. A man tends to like it."

"I have work to do," Jean said, feeling awkward. She remembered the kiss. He was standing too close. "And you need a shower." Like that didn't conjure up some rather interesting images. Scott blushed.

"Yeah," he said, "You could use one to." She stared at him. "I mean," he said hurriedly, "not with me! You smell like formaldehyde. Not that you smell bad. Or good. I have to go," he stammered and stumbled off down the hall.

"You should stop playing with that boy, Jean," Warren said, coming up behind her and dipping her low in his arms. "You're going to scare him."

Jean let out a squeal, "Let me up, Worthington."

"For a kiss," he said, scrunching up his face and pursing his lips comically.

"Kiss this," Jean said, and projected an image of Hank's furry face in his head.

"Mercy, mercy," he joked, pulling her upright. "You do me an injustice!"

"Get real. So how was dinner last night? You didn't come home till late."

"Sorry, Mom, but a gentleman never kisses and tells." They started to walk towards the kitchen. "How's the kid?"

"She won't talk to anyone. I really don't know why she's here."

"She's a mutant. Like all of us. She has nowhere else to go."

"Why do you stay here?" Jean asked. "I mean, you have money, houses in Europe. What keeps you here, with the X-men?"

He grinned wickedly at her, "Why, Ms. Grey, if you have to ask that, you are not as smart as I thought," he said, using his body to press her against the door. He sniffed the air by her neck. "It's Hank's wonderful cooking!"

She laughed and pushed him off, entering the kitchen. It was smoky and smelled like burnt hair. Hank sat on a stool in front of the stove, stirring a pot with his foot and reading a book. He wore a large white apron, splattered with sauce and was humming what sounded suspiciously like the Star Trek theme.

"Ah!" He jumped up from the stool, catching the spoon in his hand. He tried to hide the book behind his back.

"Goodness, Hank, did you get enough fur in the spaghetti sauce?" Warren said, swiping the air in front of him. Hank sniffed primly.

"I did no such thing!"

"What's burning?" Jean asked.

"Um, I had a little incident with the chicken. I took care of it," he rushed to explain. "Nothing to worry about." He turned serious, "How's our patient?"

Jean shook her head. "She won't say anything. The Professor's been with her for the last hour, but I don't know what's going on."

"Ah, so sad in someone so young," Hank said. "Well, scat children, dinner won't be ready for at least another hour."

"We'll let you get back to Sunset Passions, Hank," Warren said, with a cocky grin.

"It's Sunrise-oh nevermind."

* * *

Nathaniel Essex was a remotely simple man. He was a mutant, but above all he was a scientist. He had carefully studied the advances made during World War II, especially the genetic advances that the government did not want to leak to the common world. And Sinister was enthralled by genetics, and the simple little X-factor that made him a mutant.

And what he could do by combining the right genes from the right people.

Sinister wanted to get his hands on a sample of her DNA more than anything else in his fanatical studies. He knew that they held the answer to creating a super-mutant, something even superior to the Homo sapien superiors.

Mutant. He scoffed at the stupid flatscan's words to describe the evolution that was taking place all over the world. It wasn't a mutation, per se, although it was a change in the genetic structure of man. It was more of a progression, a change for the better. Evolution. Humans were becoming stronger and smarter. Sinister was driven to find out what had caused this great anomaly in the world that would eventually lead to the downfall of mankind as the petty, insignificant flatscans knew it.

And Sinister was creating the virus that would speed the evolution of regular humans until every one was a mutant. He just needed the right genes to finish it.

His Legacy.

There was a knock at the door and it opened. The man that entered was a perfect genetic specimen, after a few alterations by Sinister. He felt great pride in watching his child. He knew there would come a day that the invention would turn on the creator. But as long as he had something LeBeau wanted….

"I can get in de mansion. But you have to promise-"

"I assure you, LeBeau, I will not go back on my word."

Scott's words came unbidden back to Remy. Trust a thief? Well, trust a psycopathic, crazed scientist? He couldn't keep a grin from twisting his features. If Scott only knew…

"Den I shall have her for you."

"Excellent. I shall prepare the lab."

"You won't hurt her, will you?" Remy asked.

"No, my dear boy. I wouldn't dream of it."

But there was no guaranteeing she wouldn't hurt anybody else.

* * *

They finally left her alone. Her head felt as if it were being pricked by a thousand tiny little needles. She lay in the dark, listening to the voices in her head. They were talking to _her_. The enemy. The invader. She rolled over, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to shut them out.

The Professor had tried to breech her mental defenses for three hours, to no avail. Rogue hadn't been fighting him, but _she_ had. He had finally called it a night when _she _attacked him. He had given Rogue a sleeping pill, but it lay beneath her pillow. Rogue had wanted to take it, but _she_ wouldn't let her. _She_ was gaining control, and Rogue was helpless to fight her. _Her_ mind was strong, stronger than Rogue's. It was as if _she_ were supposed to win, to take control of Rogue's body for her own purposes.

Or Mystique's?

"Momma wouldn't do that to me," Rogue whispered to herself, harshly.

_She _laughed.

* * *

_She_ is the voice in Rogue's head. Next chapter we learn just who _she_ is!

Jean1: I'm glad you're enjoying! It's been fun writing the awkwardness, but I can't wait to see how our Cajun charmer and southern belle act around each other. And it will be a good long while before Wolverine shows up...but I can't make any promises on any on else!

Alright, stick with me, this is my first long fanfiction, so I'm still working out a few bugs plot wise. But soon we'll have action, romance, and a little bit of good old fashioned isanity!


	7. Spandex

DISCLAIMER: Marvel's, kiddies.

* * *

"What the hell is this?" Rogue demanded, plucking at the material. "Is this spandex? Oh hell no!"

"Rogue, please," Scott was saying, "It allows for the best mobility on the field."

"Do you know what this does t'cellulite? Ah won't be caught dead in this! And these colors, they're so…tacky!"

"Do you have any better suggestions?" Scott barked, finally reaching the end of his patience. He had been arguing with Rogue for the past hour, trying to get her to put on the uniform and practice in the Danger Room. Hank had given her a clean bill of health two days ago, and she had refused to become an active participant on the team. She made Bobby look like a little angel. He was currently smirking in the corner, watching Scott grow more and more infuriated with every passing moment.

"Yeah you can shove this brassy piece of plastic straight up your-"

"Rogue."

She dropped the uniform and turned around. The Professor had that fatherly, stern look on his face she had grown to hate. It was the same he gave her when she wasn't participating in their sessions. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him challengingly.

"Ah won't wear that," she said.

"All the X-men wear spandex. It allows for best interaction with powers."

"Then shouldn't Ah go naked?" she growled. Bobby's smile grew wider and he nodded enthusiastically.

"Child, please," Professor said, rubbing his forehead. He looked weary. "This isn't open for discussion. Put that on and perform the tests. If you are going to be an active part of this team-"

"Ah don't want to be part of this team, period!" she cried out. Her face was volatile. She picked up the uniform and threw it across the room before storming out.

"Professor," Scott said, "I know it's not my place to say anything but-"

"Not now, Scott," Xavier said. "We need to give her more time. She's not adjusting well."

"She wants to be with the Brotherhood!" Scott insisted. "Is it safe having her here?"

"She won't betray us, Scott. She's just scared."

"Looked more like pissed off, to me," Bobby remarked. The Professor gave him a stern look, and he quieted down.

"Bobby go ahead and run through your exercises. Let's see if we can't get something accomplished today, hmm?" the Professor said. Bobby groaned but he obeyed and Scott programmed in a light course for him.

"What's going on with her?" Scott asked. "Some days she seems almost normal. Other times she's like this."

"I am not sure. I can't reach her telepathically. Something has scarred that child's mind very badly. I have work to do," the Professor said, and wheeled himself out of the Observation Deck. Scott grit his teeth together and watched Bobby.

Rogue stood outside the room, heart pounding. _She _had wanted to put on that spandex monstrosity. _She _had almost won. But Rogue felt strong. She had beaten _her._ Even if it did piss of the X-geeks. Especially Scott. Rogue felt something bitter in the back of her throat as she thought of him. And Jean. She pushed those thoughts away till she could analyze them better.

Scott said she wanted to be with the Brotherhood, but did she really? She hadn't liked it there. Half of them were certifiably insane, and the other half, well, that was even scarier. True she had had Mystique and Destiny, but was it worth it? Here, at least, they worried about her. The Professor seemed nice enough. He wanted to help her. But she couldn't tell him. She couldn't let him know _her_ secret.

"What secret?" Rogue demanded. "You can't hide anythin' in mah head!"

_She _laughed. _Yes, it seems I can._

"What do you want with me?"

_Not me. I want nothing with you. You are just the vessel._

"Get." Rogue said, through gritted teeth, "Out. Of. Mah. Head."

_You put me in here, 'sugah'._

"No Ah didn't!"

_Oh, poor little Roguey doesn't remember? No matter. Soon will be the time. Soon you'll be no more but a petty little afterthought. _

"Fuck you!" Rogue spat. "Ah am in control. Not you."

"Are you alright?" Rogue looked up. Jean was looking at her, face full of worry. She was wearing spandex.

"Peachy." Rogue said, dryly. "Ah need air."

"I think you should lay down. You look pale."

_Her! We want her! _

"Ah'm fine."

_Kill her. We want blood._

"Whatever you say. We're only trying to help you, here, you know."

_You know you want to hurt her. Look at her. She's everything you hate. Everything you can't be. Just one touch and you _can_ be her. Take her. Take it all. All that power!_

"You don't know anything!" Rogue shouted, before turning and running down the hall. _She_ kept laughing. _She _was always laughing.

"Whoa!" Warren said, catching her as she rounded a corner, before she could barrel into him. He held her by her arms. "You don't look well." Rogue's eyes were wide, unfocused. He had angel wings. Why couldn't she think straight? Her eyes blurred. _She _was taking over. Rogue forced her hand up, onto Warren's smooth cheek. She saw his eyes go wide and his mouth twist in agony. She let go. But it was enough to regain control. Warren slumped down, his wings protecting him.

She fought off his psyche as it roared at her. She saw images. Jean. Purple. Crying as his parents bound him in leather straps to keep his wings hidden. The day they drove up to Xavier's and left him there. The man with the fangs. Playing catch with Bobby. Flying, freedom. The sadness.

She felt pain in her shoulder blades. She had to get of there, before they saw her. Before they saw what she had done. The blood trickled down her back as the wings struggled to free themselves from the skin and clothes. She touched her shoulder, and her hand came away sticky. So much blood.

* * *

Always stained.

"Ah don't want to hold on, Momma," she screamed. The girl was fighting her, clawing, screaming.

"Don't fight it!" Mystique yelled. The girl stopped struggling. Rogue thought she was stupid. That was meant for her. She gripped the girl's face tighter.

"It hurts. Ah'm killin' her!" Rogue screamed. Mystique grabbed her hand, spreading her gloved ones over Rogue's own.

"Don't let go."

"Momma!" Rogue started to cry. She could feel the memories as she stole them. It had never been like this before. She wanted to let go. Why wouldn't Momma let her let go? She tried to fight her, but she was weak. No, she was strong? The girl was strong. Why wasn't she fighting? Why wasn't she screaming? She felt the liquid. The girl was bleeding from the nose, the mouth, the eyes. So much blood. All over her hands. Mystique stepped back and Rogue snatched her hands away. But these weren't her hands! What was happening to her?

Mystique grabbed her face. "You know what to do?"

Rogue nodded. But she didn't know. But Carol did.

"I'll take care of the body."

Another nod. She wanted the blood off her hands. Her blood. No, Carol's blood.

* * *

She was at the end of the driveway, panting hard. The wind pulled at her wings. She wanted to fly. But she was heavy, so heavy. Scott was running after her, yelling. Shooting at her. Why wouldn't the gate open? She tugged it.

"Rogue, stop! Please!" Scott yelled. She heard someone punching numbers on the electrical keypad, and the gate slid from her hands. She tried to run, but someone grabbed her.

"Leave her alone!" Scott yelled.

"Sorry, mon ami," then there was blackness.

* * *


	8. Sinister Urgings

DISCLAIMER: In my own little world I own the X-men. But, sadly, in this one, I do not. I just like to play with them a little :).

* * *

"You idiot!"

"How was I supposed t'know dere was more dan one?"

"Because you are a thief! It is your job to know all the variables!"

"Well I didn't know about her!"

Sinister drew the knife slowly across his pale palm, letting the warm blood soothe him. He would have her soon. He needed her.

"You have to go back."

"I can't!"

"Why not? I need Jean Grey." His voice was low, calm. He needed to stay calm.

"It's too risky. Dey saw me!"

"And whose fault is that?"

Remy paced the room. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know there was more than one redhead. What are the odds? Scott hadn't said anything. Damn him! He spun and looked at the girl. She was pale, but her dark eyes were glaring at him from beenath her hair. A bruise was spreading on her temple. He had hogtied her hands behind her back but her feet were free. She tried to kick him.

"Let me take her back."

"That is unacceptable."

"You don't need her!" Remy said. "I promised you Jean Grey. I will get you Jean Grey. But let her go." Her foot connected with his ankle. He bit back a curse and glared at her. She spat at him, but it fell short.

"Don't you know who she is? That's Mystique's girl. Rogue."

"So?" Remy asked. Damned if the girl wasn't trying to crawl towards him to bite him. He stepped easily out of her way. She tried to head butt his foot. He should have hit her harder. Couldn't she see he was trying to save her?

"So, if she's with the X-men, something is up. Do you think Mystique would just give her up so freely?"

"I don't fucking care if she's the queen of England!" Remy roared. He finally kicked the girl in the jaw. She let out a yelp. He didn't feel any better, and her teeth grazed his calf. He thought she drew blood.

"Go ahead and touch her. Skin to skin. See if you still don't care .Can you imagine what we could do with that power? I would have never thought of it before, she was Mystique's after all. But now that she's an X-man…what is that woman up to?" Sinister mused, ignoring Gambit. "Well child."

"Fuck you, you freaky scum sucker!" Rogue screamed. "Ah'll kill you!" Sinister laughed. It gave her goose bumps. She sneered at him.

He stood up. She hadn't realized he was so tall, or bulky. He walked to her with an easy grace. His skin was so pale, it was sickly, and his lips were painted black, and his eyes gleamed as red as the jewel in his forehead. He bent down, using his arm to lift her head up. His breath smelled like raw meat. His teeth were fangs. _The man with fangs_.

"Don't be coy, child, it isn't becoming. Why are you with the X-men?"

She spat on him. He wiped it away, then reared back his palm and slapped her. Her head flew back and hit a table. She heard a crash of instruments, but was too dazed.

"I'll ask you only one more time," he said, and this time his voice was angry.

"Momma made me!" she whispered, glaring at him.

He rocked back on his heels a look of perplexion on his odd features. Then he smiled. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, so taught it was painful. "Why would she do that? What are you hiding?" His jewel began to glow a painful red. Rogue couldn't tear her eyes away.

She felt him at the walls of her mind, thick, oily, leaking over and through cracks like a sickness. Everything he touched seem to die, to fade away, leaving her in pain. She tried to scream, to force him out, but he was everywhere, darkness. He touched all her memories, tainting them. He forced her mind into cohesion, melding it into something he could use, could read. All the psyches screamed at him, but with a gesture they were quieted, writhing in pain. Except one.

"Hello, Sinister," she said. She was sitting at a table, drinking tea.

"Well, well, Ms. Marvel. This is a surprise."

She smiled at him. "Care to join me?"

Rogue tried to run at them, attack them, but Essex created a cage around her. She could only watch.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, sitting down as if it were a pleasant lunch, instead of him mind raping her.

"The little bitch absorbed me."

"For what purpose?" he asked. She smiled at him.

"Mystique made her take me, so that I could use her body to infiltrate the X-men."

Sinister laughed. "Clever. Can you take control of her body?"

"Sometimes. She's stronger than Raven or I suspected, but she'll break."

"What does Mystique want with the X-men? Just information."

"I can't tell you that," Carol said, sitting back with an eerie smile. "That's confidential."

Sinister seemed to grow larger, towering over her. He grabbed her by the throat. "Tell me or I'll kill you," he snarled.

"You can't. Mystique has my body in safe keeping." Carol said smugly.

"But what good is a body if I kill your mind?"

"She wants Jean Grey. I don't know why, that's higher up than me."

Sinister released her. Carol sat back down, sipping her tea as if nothing had happened. Sinister rubbed his chin. "What does Mystique want with Ms. Grey?"

Carol shrugged. "That's not what I'm paid for."

"No. I suppose not." Sinister turned to Rogue. She was trying to break the bars of her prison. But she did not possess Carol's strength. And Carol did not possess Rogue's absorption. Interesting. He grabbed Carol by the hair, and yanked her over to where Rogue was.

"What the hell are you doing?" Carol demanded, kicking at him.

"Experiments."

* * *

Remy couldn't take it anymore. The girl was screaming, silently. Sinister was bent over her, using her hair to shield his hands as he held her face. He was smiling. Then the girl started to fight him, bucking and kicking. Her screams became audible, but it was echoed. It made Remy's blood run cold. It was as if two people were screaming. He started to grab Sinister, but he backhanded him. Remy was thrown across the room, tasting blood. He tried to get up, but Sinister refused to let him, using his telepathy to create shackles. Remy watched in horror as the girl let out a choking scream, then fell silent. Underneath Sinister's horrible hands, her hair began to turn white…

Remy broke the telepathic chains and went running at the maniac. He had to stop this. After all he'd done, after all he'd been through, he wouldn't see it happen again. He grabbed Sinister's shoulders and felt his powers, the tickle of them, as he charged the lab coat the man was wearing.

"What are you doing?" he yelled.

"Leave her alone. She's innocent!" Remy screamed back. Sinister attempted to move, but the whistle of his charged coat advised him otherwise. "Stand up," Remy barked. Sinister complied and the girl slumped to the floor, blood trickling out of her mouth to stain the white in her hair.

"You are going to regret this, LeBeau," Sinister said.

"Que sera, sera," Remy said, and punched Sinister in the temple. The larger man crumpled to the ground unceremoniously. He stripped the coat off of him and threw it in the air. It imploded harmlessly and bits of white cloth floated to the ground like snow.

He ran to the desk and began pulling out the drawers. He rummaged through them.

"Damn!" It wasn't there. Sinister let out a groan. Remy slammed his hands down on the desk. All his penance ruined for one girl. He glared at her, and then scooped her body up fireman style. He stumbled a bit under her weight; she was heftier than she appeared. As he got to the door he realized that he must have tripped a silent alarm, as the laser going across the door was blinking. He tried the handle, but it had locked. "Merde," he breathed, and set the girl down. He ran to the window, but it too had locked, and bars had come down across it. He ran back to the door, withdrawing his lock picking kit from his pocket. It helped to be a thief. He made quick work of the lock, just as the girl was regaining consciousness.

"What?" she asked him, as he tugged on her arm. She got to her feet shakily.

"We got to get outta here, petite, before he wakes." She took one look at Sinister and paled. She wiped the blood from her lip, but the wariness was back in her eyes.

"Ah ain't trustin' you!" she spat.

"I don't have time for this!" he yelled at her, then he punched her in the temple. He let out a yelp and drew his hand back shaking it. She stared at him in shock.

"Oh mah god! What did he do to me?" She strained against her bonds, and they fell apart as if they had been made of paper. She stared at her hands.

"Come on," Remy roared, grabbing her and propelling her through the door.

"LeBeau!" Sinister shouted. "This isn't over."

Remy grabbed a card and lit it, throwing it behind him. He heard a whine and the wall behind him exploded. Shards of wood flew and he threw his arms around the girl and dragged her to the ground. When the dust settled he was back on his feet, gripping her by the arm and half dragging her out of the building.

The air hit Rogue like a shock. She pulled back abruptly.

"Who the Hell are you?" she demanded.

"We need t'go, dat won't keep him long!" Rogue stared at his outstretched hand, his worried face. It was like choosing between two evils. Which was the lesser? She looked at the building behind her, flames licking from the windows.

She placed her hand in his palm.

* * *

Next Up: What do Sinister and Mystique's employer want with Jean? What will Rogue do to Remy once their safe?

Sanae: Thanks so much. I think it's a travesty that Scott's with Emma, it's so awful! I'm glad you are enjoying it and I promise there will be much more Scott and Jean next chapter!

Ishandahalf: Hope I'm not too predictable. What fun would that be:) Thanks for reading.

Oh and just a quick note on accents-so I suck at them, but it's fun to write anyways! Any mistakes are mine and not the characters :)


	9. Motivation

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men and can't think of anything clever :)

* * *

"Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright!" Scott roared, slamming his fists on the table. That, of course, did not help his temper, since his hands stung. He discreetly lifted them and held them behind his back. It always looked so much easier in the movies.

"Who was that?" Jean asked.

"Gambit. Remy LeBeau. One of the Nasty Boys."

"It's not nice to call people names," Bobby said. Scott glared at him. Which was practically ineffective because of his glasses, but Bobby shut up anyways.

"He works for Sinister? How come I've never seen him before?" Jean asked.

"You haven't been around all that much, now have you?" Scott retorted. Jean looked stunned. Scott sighed and rubbed a hand across his jaw. He wondered if he should get some ice for them, then decided that would make him look weak. The Professor relied on him to take leadership. It wouldn't do to look like a pansy because of some damn plastic table. He glared at it.

Warren walked in, looking pale and angry. "Stupid bitch," he muttered. Jean went to his side, and Scott clenched his jaw. He was foolish to think that Jean would have a remote interest in him. Not that he was interested in her, he reasoned, or that he cared. But Warren was her type. Her class. He had background, prestige, money, good looks. What could Scott offer her? Not even a highschool degree. Scott shook his head. The matter at hand was Rogue.

"So, Scott. I assume you have something to tell us," the Professor said, as he wheeled into the War Room. His face looked older than he had ever seen it. His eyes stared at him unblinkingly. He looked…disappointed.

"I met with Gambit a few days ago." There was silence around the table, but it was heavy. Scott couldn't meet their eyes. "He wanted me to give him the mansion's security codes. He said, 'If you value that pretty little redhead's life you'll listen to me.'"

"I assume that you gave him the codes," the Professor said.

"Yes," Scott said. Jean gasped. Scott lifted his head, daring them to say something to him. Bobby looked on the verge of tears. There went hero status. Hank was shaking his head. Warren's expression was furious.

"But this wasn't right. He's a thief. He wouldn't attack in broad daylight to get her. Something was messed up. He gave me this," Scott threw a piece of paper on the table. It had an address on it.

"It could be a set up," Warren said. "The girl could be in on it."

"I've been in her mind, Warren. She's not in on anything," the Professor said, picking up the paper. "I wonder what this is."

"I assume it was a meeting place. He said this was his last job for Sinister, and when it was over, he wanted in. I told him if he stole from the X-men that was impossible. He said he would only be borrowing."

"Then why aren't we there getting Rogue back?" Bobby demanded.

"Would you trust him?" Scott asked.

"You obviously did to give him the codes? What if he snuck in and killed us all?" Bobby said, his voice rising in irritation. His balled fist began to ice.

"He wouldn't do that!" Scott yelled.

"How do you know?" Warren demanded.

"Because I owe him my life!" Scott shouted. That got it quiet. "It happened a year ago. It was night, and I was coming home from the library. I decided to take a shortcut through the park. These men jumped me. They knew I was a mutant and one had a knife. They knocked my glasses off and I couldn't see. He saved me, although I the time I had no idea what was going on. He used his powers to meld the quartz in my glasses back together and gave me a ride here."

"Why didn't you tell me?" the Professor asked.

"Because I didn't want to look stupid!" Scott said.

"Oh Scott, no one would have criticized you," Jean said, sympathy radiating from her voice. She thought he was a child. He felt a sinking in his stomach.

"Whatever. I'm going to go get Rogue back," Scott said. "Gambit won't let her die. If he wouldn't let a bunch of humans kill me, an enemy, he wouldn't let Sinister kill her. She's on his side, remember?" He stalked out of the room.

He reached his room before she caught up to him. She grabbed his elbow.

"Scott. No one blames you. It's not your fault."

"What do you know?" he asked. "All everyone can talk about is how great you are, how wonderful you are, the infallible Jean Grey. What would you know about it?"

Jean tried not to be hurt. "You don't know anything about me," she said, quietly.

"And I don't want to," Scott replied evenly.

"You really are an ass-"

"Hello pretties," Mystique said, before she shot them.

* * *

"What's this? Two for the price of one, Mystique?"

"I couldn't leave him there. Let them think they're off having a tryst or something."

"And Rogue?"

"I couldn't find her."

"More the pity."

"Carol will take care of the rest of the X-men and bring Rogue back here. She wants her body back." Mystique said.

"Ah yes. That was a rather brilliant plan of yours, Mystique." The blue skinned mutant smiled.

"Given the right motivation…"

"That's right. A son for your daughter."

Mystique's smile faded. "It's not like that," she said.

The man held up his hands. "No, of course not. Blood and water and all that."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"All in due time, Mystique. Now, would you like to see Kurt?"

* * *

Well, updates may be slowing down a bit, but I will not abandon you! I know I hate to wait for updates on the stories I'm reading.

And I know, I promised Gambit and Rogue-but how bout we give them their own chapter? And I PROMISE their will be much more fun stuff between Scott and Jean, we just have to get them rescued you know...or do we? Hahahahahahaha

And so now we know why Scott owes Gambit, but is that all there is to that story? And is Kurt really Mystique's motivation? What will happen when Rogue's not around to 'take care' of the other X-men? All this and more! Stay tuned.


	10. Opposites

DISCLAIMER: Pais le mien. C'est des Merveilles. (Not mine. It's Marvels)

* * *

She didn't know where they were going. It hadn't seemed appropriate to ask, given the situation, speeding away from a building on fire and a psychotic maniac and all that. But she was worried. Alright, gal, she chided herself. Admit it. You're scared.

She looked at her companion. She still had the urge to hit him. It seemed natural. Maybe it was his cocky grin? She twiddled her thumbs.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Rogue."

"I know dat," he said, exasperatedly. "Your real name."

She smiled at him; not realizing it was a rather not nice smile. "Rogue."

He rolled his eyes. He swerved and she banged her head on the window. She readjusted and put on her seatbelt. It was fitting, since he was going in excess of a hundred. She didn't know the station wagon he'd hijacked had it in it. Still, his driving wasn't the worst of her worries.

"You?"

"Gambit."

"Oh, Remy LeBeau."

She heard him growl in frustration. "Oui."

"Momma tol' me about you. Said you were a bad boy," she added some husk to her voice. "You gonna be bad t'me, sugah?"

"Maybe after you had a shower, chere. And wash all dat shit off you're face." Rogue sat back, nonplussed. She must look a wreck. She pulled down the sun visor, and flipped the mirror open.

And screamed.

"Mah hair!" she grabbed at the twin white streaks framing her face. "Ah'll kill him!"

"It adds character," Remy said, grinning at her. "Besides it ain't as bad as your temple."

Rogue made a gurgling sound and pulled her hair back. The left side of her head was a welt of black and purle. In the curious shape of knuckles. She was sporting some scrapes on her cheeks as well. And her makeup had run, giving her racoon eyes. Plus she sported a nasty gash on her lip, which was swollen.

She hated that he hadn't a mark on him.

She wanted to give him one, all right.

"You takin' me back, now?" she asked.

He laughed. "Dat would be stupid. Dey'd kill me on site."

"To Mystique's then?" she asked. She hated the hopefulness that colored her voice.

"Non. She be wantin' to kill me too," he said.

"Who doesn't?" Rogue muttered.

"All de ladies, chere."

"I want to kill you," Rogue amended, happily.

"Who said you're a lady?" he laughed.

She did hit him. She couldn't help it. She was just going to tap his arm a little, a warning. But he swerved the car violently. It fishtailed and careened sideways into oncoming traffic. He wrestled with the wheel, slamming on the brakes before gliding, not to gently, into a guard rail.

"What de hell?" he exploded. When he looked at her she was pale.

"Ah didn't mean-did that hurt?"

"I t'ink you broke it!" he shouted at her. He wondered if she were as insane as Sinister. She certainly looked certifiable.

She cringed back into her seat. He noticed her breathing was shallow and her face was without color whatsoever.

"Hey, chere, calm down. I didn't mean t'yell." He tried to console her. The car had started to smoke however, and he was worried about fires. Or someone stopping. He put an arm on her back.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted. She wrestled with her seatbelt, trying to unbuckle it, before growling in anger and ripping it clean from the seat. She stared at the wreckage in her hands. She turned to the door, trying to open it, not realizing it was dented shut.

"Rogue," Remy said, grabbing her arm. She yanked it from his grip and went back to fighting with the door. "Rogue," he said louder, then yanked her back against the seat. "We have t'go out dis way." He noticed she was starting to cry. Big, giant tears that streamed down the dirt and mascara caked on her face.

"Hey now," he said, soothingly. "It ain't dat bad. It's just a Chevy."

"What did he do to me?" she asked, but she knew he didn't have the answers. She broke down in sobs, her shoulders heaving. "Ah shoulda worn the damned spandex! None of this would have happened!" He knew now that she was hysterical. But he heard sirens.

"We gotta go, chere. Much as de idea of you in spandex is appealing," he added. He heard a snort and wondered if it were a laugh.  
He climbed out of the car and turned around to help her out. She shook his hand off and stood, unsteadily, peering around. "How are we gonna get away? Walk?" She could see the blue lights coming up the mountain. God, they were on a mountain? She couldn't look down.

"You gotta better idea?" Remy asked, starting to jog uphill.

Rogue looked at her hands. A smile slid over her face. "Yeah Ah do." She ran up to him, and grabbed him beneath his arms. "Hold on," she whispered.

Gambit had his eyes shut. He wondered if his driving had scared her as much as her flying did him. It seemed as if she had never done it before. The air tore at his eyes and nose, and her hands dug uncomfortably into his ribs. He had tangled his feet with hers, to keep them from flapping in the wind. Any other time he'd relish being pressed up against a pretty girl. But this one was nuts. And she smelled like wet dog.

"Where we goin'?"

"Why should Ah tell ya?" she asked. "You wouldn't tell me!"

"Cause I didn't know!" he shouted, over the wind.

"Ah'm going t'Momma. She'll know what to do."

"Momma…Mystique!" he started to squirm. "Are you nuts? I said she watned to kill me!"

"Shut up and stop squirming, or Ah'll drop you! She won't kill you. Maybe a little torture, but Ah'll tell her not to hurt you. Or your pretty little face."

"A lotta ladies be grateful, chere," Remy remarked. Her grip slackened.

"Keep jokin', LeBeau."

"Dieu!" he said, feeling his stomach drop out. "Can't you…I don't know…fly a little faster?"

"This is mah first time, Ah don't want to push it," she replied.

"What? I'm gonna die. All because I couldn't deny a pretty face. Papa always said a redhead be de death o'me!"

"Smart man, your papa," Rogue commented. She decided on sarcasm, because she was totally, hopelessly lost. Nothing looked familiar to her. She wondered if she were even going the right direction. The wind kept pushing her, too, so she had decided to 'fly' with it. If it were flying. It was kind of like jumping…without the falling…only horizontally. It wasn't as if she were riding the wind, or flapping wings, or any of the things you'd normally consider flight. No, she just _was._ Above the earth. Anti-gravity, she was guessing. But she never paid attention in physics.

She sighed. "Ah don't suppose ya know where we are?" she asked. She flew lower, her arms getting tired of holding him. She hoped she would recognize one of the buildings, but she hadn't.

He was quiet. "I t'ink we in Hell's Kitchen."

"Hell's…oh that's reassuring."

"It's not so bad a place. Has it's own 'costumed avenger'."

"Know how to get to Westchester from here?" she couldn't keep the sarcarm from her voice.

"Oui. Keep on till you reach de river, den go south."

She flew higher. It was the oddest feeling, but she settled her grip tighter around the Cajun's lanky body. He really did smell good, kinda like spices. But he was heavy!

Following his directions, the landscape grew more familiar. She was able to navigate, grateful she didn't have to ask him for directions anymore. She wasn't able to fly completely to Mystique's hideout, though, and set them down a few miles down the road.

"Ah think ya been eatin' to much gumbo," she snapped, stretching her arms.

"Nah, you jus' lazy. Been livin' it up in a mansion, why de rest of us scrape out our livin's on de street."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Get truckin', swamp rat."

"Cute. But dis is where I say adieu."

"Ah don't think so," she said, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. She had made him lose the trenchcoat since it tended to billow up and blind her as she was flying. He hadn't been happy.

"Chere," he said. "Dis not be a good a idea." She felt the card press into her belly.

"Forget it! Ah ain't lettin' you go so you can go runnin' back to whatever little hole you came from!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" he said, charging the card and bringing it up to her face. The impact caused them to blow apart. She landed in an alley, crushing the top of a dumpster. He hit his head on the wall of a building. He was impressed by the crater she had created but he was gone before she could pick herself up from it.

"Ah'll kill him!" she growled, pulling bits of garbage from her hair. Her shirt and jacket had been singed, and she pulled the scraps tighter to cover her. "Ah swear, if it's the last thing Ah do, Ah'll kill him!"

* * *

Now wasn't that sweet? 


	11. Prisoners

DISCLAIMER: After many death threats and stalking, Stan Lee still refuses to give me sole ownership of the X-men. I promise to keep trying. He promised to slap a lawsuit on me. We'll just see who wins, Mr. Lee. Until then, the X-men are yours. But you'll never have my twinkies!

* * *

"Wake up, wake up," Scott chanted at her. Jean was laying so still, so pale. Her shoulder had been bandaged where Mystique had shot her. Scott had woken up a few minutes ago, and feigned that he was still unconscious while Mystique was still in the room. She had been talking to someone else, someone in the cell next to them. Now he held Jean's head in his lap, kneeling beside her, slapping her cheek gently.

She mumbled something, turning her face against his palm, and he knelt closer to hear it. "You're on," she gasped, "my hand."

"Oh!" he stood up, freeing her arm. She moved it stiffly and struggled to sit up. Scott placed a hand behind her shoulders and helped. Her head was swimming and she rubbed her eyes against the harsh light.

"What happened?" she managed. Her lips were white and her eyes huge against her face. He stared at her. Something was different. Something was off…

Her eyes were beautiful. The green was so light, the like he couldn't even imagine. It was startling contrast against her rich hair, the color of bronze. And it shined. He reached out a hand to touch it to see if it were real.

She swatted it away. "What's wrong with you? Are you still on drugs?'

He rubbed his eyes. "I'm not wearing my glasses."

She stared at him a moment, head cocked so her hair fell about her shoulders appealingly, then leaned closer. "Brown. Huh." She waved a hand in front of his eyes. "My mother always said brown eyes mean you are full of shit."

"Stop that," he growled, grabbing her arm. "We need to get serious." As if he hadn't been ogling her just a minute ago. She wisely remained silent, "So here's the situation. We're being held underground, by someone that Mystique is working for. You were shot in the shoulder; I was shot in the thigh. And we have no powers."

Jean had her eyes shut and her forehead crinkled. She strained, he could see a vein running down her forehead to her right eye. He had the urge to rub it down with his thumb. He wondered how soft her skin would be. Then she relaxed and her eyes snapped open, catching him watching her with more than curiosity.

"I can't hear anything." Why was she calm? Was this what came before hysteria?

"Ja. Zere are power dampeners." The voice seemed tinny, convoluted as it came to them, as if over a great distance. .

"Who's there?" Jean demanded. She stood and spotted a window, small and high, and went to it. The cell next to them was dark, but she saw the shadowed outline sitting facing their window. Yellow eyes gleamed from the darkness.

"Vagner. Kurt Vagner. But outside ze Munich circus I vas known as ze Amazing Nightcrawler!" the voice replied, in heavily accented German.

"Do you know where we are, Kurt?" Scott asked coming to stand by Jean and peering through the window. He had forgotten there were so many colors.

"Magneto's Citadel," he replied.

"Magneto?" Jean gasped. "Why are we here?" she said to herself.

"How long have you been here?" Scott asked, louder. There was silence.

"I do not know. I can't vemember vhen it vas I came, nor can I tell time here," he replied.

"How'd you get here?" Scott continued.

"I vas performing and zey where in my caravan vhen I finished."

"Magneto?"

"No, some hairy man and a man zat looks like a frog."

"Sabretooth and Toad." Jean and Scott said, simultaneously. Their eyes connected and shied away. Jean cleared her throat.

"What would they want with you?" Jean asked.

Silence again. "I…do not know."

"Do you know why they'd want us?" Scott tried.

"Zey don't vant you. Zey vant her. You vere just a mistake."

"Jean?"

"Me?" They said at the same time. This time their eyes caught and held. Scott stomach felt weird.

"Ja. Zat is all Mystique vould tell me."

Scott paced the small confines of their cell, wishing he could put more distance between himself and Jean. But, it wasn't a cell like a prison cell, but rather, a white room with three uniform walls of white padding, one with a small window to the next cell, and one wall with a metal door. The light was bright and hurt his eyes, sensitive as they were from constantly being hidden by his glasses. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. If they managed to escape, especiallly the power dampeners, he'd be a liability. The room was small and he desperately wanted to stretch his legs. But he'd manage.

"Are you a mutant?" Jean was continuing the conversation with Nightcrawler. There was a quiet chuckle.

"Ja. I am a teleporter, I'd guess you'd say."

"Well, Kurt the teleporter," did she have to sound like this were a normal conversation of tea and cucumber sandwiches? "I'm Jean Grey and this is Scott Summers. We're part of the X-men."

"Oh ja! Mystique has spoken of you before. And a girl called Rogue."

Scott turned on his heel. "What has she said of Rogue?" he couldn't keep the heat from his voice. "Is she here?"Jean watched his face, the controlled anger, and felt something bitter in her throat.

"No, and not much, just zat she raised ze girl to be her successor and now she vas vith ze X-men."

"Why is she telling you all this?" Scott wanted to know. Jean made a noise at him but he held up his hand. The first line of business was determining if this were really a friend or foe.

"Because," he said, walking closer. Scott's head was blocking the light filtering through the rooms and Jean pushed him till he moved. She gasped as the light fell across Kurt's face, illuminating blue skin, "I am her son."

* * *

Jean had fallen into a fitful sleep. Her shoulder was bothering her, it was apparent. She was sweating and moaning, and Scott worried she might be getting a fever. They had spent some more time talking with Kurt, and as he had said it had been impossible to tell the passage of time. He, apparently, had books and cards and a bed to sleep on, which he had a while ago. Scott was propped against the wall beneath the window, and Jean had rested her head in his lap, careful to avoid his wounded thigh. Without his knowledge, his hand had crept to her hair and twined itself in her thick, silky strands. She was snoring a bit.

He couldn't go to sleep. He kept running scenarios through his head of their escape, but he was worried because of his powers. There also didn't seem to be anyway to break through the doors, and no one had come to see them since their capture. His stomach rumbled in agreement.

His mind tuned out of their present situation and instead focused on Jean's face. She was a bit of an enigma to him, all class and breeding and smarts, but she had spent time talking and joking with Kurt as if she hadn't been shot in the shoulder and forced into a small, white padded room. He ran a finger over the bridge of her nose. She snorted and scratched it, and Scott smiled. She really did annoy him. But she was so cute when she slept. Even if she did snore.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked sleepily. There was a puddle of drool on his pants, but she chose to ignore it.

"How to get us out of here."

"Oh."

Did she sound disappointed?

"I was thinking of sex."

"Excuse me?" he said.

"You know, if the X-factor expresses itself differently to male and female anatomy. We call the 'mutation' gene X-factor, when really the X gene is shared by all male and females. I think we should have called it…the M gene or something."

"Or the Jean gene?" he recovered. His mind had been completely absorbed in another mental image.

"Funny."

"But they couldn't name a gene after you, unless it were Grey gene." Or Summers. Where in the hell had that come from? He was seventeen! He didn't even want to date this woman, let alone marry her. He didn't even like her! Or know her that well. So that was a silly, random thought. Could Magneto be putting it in his head? Yes, that was likely. That was where it came from.

"I'm more interested in finding medicines to cure diseases in mutants than mapping the genome. Of humans or mutants." She was fully awake now, rolling over on her back, but she hadn't sat up. Or said anything about his hand in her hair. Her hands were active as she spoke, but came to rest on her stomach. One crept out to rest on his hand, the one that wasn't in his hair.

She told herself it was because she was scared, and needed reassurance. Her shoulder hurt. His leg must hurt and they needed to share pain. Not because his skin was surprising soft, and his hand surprisingly strong. It felt like a man's hand. The knuckles were scarred. She ran her thumb over them, wishing away his hurts. He seemed so old for someone so young. She wondered what had done it to him.

"Still thinking about sex?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, genetic variations in male and females."

"Oh yeah. That's what I was thinking." Very Naughty genetic variations. And how his variation would compliment her variation and-no-the humerus is connected to the ulna. The ulna's connected to the radius, the radius is connected to carpals and metacarpals and phalanges, and boy does he have nice phalanges and no! She snatched her hand away like it had been burnt. Scott had been watching the play of emotions march across her features with a bit of amusement. He wondered what she had been thinking. His mind had wrapped itself in a Very Nice fantasy. With chocolate and champagne-and no, how he should be getting out of here and what he would do without his visor. Wonder what she looked like naked. This would be the only time he'd get to see her without shades of red. His hand crept towards her…

And he snatched it away, jarring her in the process. She let out a yelp as her shoulder was tweaked. She sat up, rubbing it gingerly, giving him a cross look. Anger was good. When she was angry he didn't think Very Nice thoughts of her. Only Very Nice Angry Makeup thoughts. He wondered if this happened to all people in stressful situations. She sighed and twisted so she was sitting next to him, her good shoulder agianst his bad leg.

"So you're graduating in a few months?" remember he was a young boy. And you're in Magneto's citadel. And they are probably watching you. She made a face, just in case they were.

"Yeah. And what are you gonna do in two years when you graduate?" Get married, have two-point-five kids, get a job and grow up. Which he didn't plan on doing anytime soon. So there.

"I don't know." She said. "Are you going to go to college?"

"Maybe. I already have a license to fly, so it depends if I want to fly commercially or not. Or if I even want to leave the X-men. We're just getting started doing good things, you know? Being heroes. Before it was just, we're mutants helping. Now we're becoming something. I mean, we were shot and dragged to Magneto's dungeons. That has to mean we're doing something right." He smiled. He had a nice smile. Nice with his eyes. He really did have beautiful eyes, it was a shame they had to be covered up all the time.

"Heroes or martyrs?"

Scott hadn't heard the door open. She really did have beautiful eyes, when they weren't an eerie version of pink. His head shot up, breaking the connection. Magneto roughly shoved a figure at them. She dropped to the ground, coughing viciously. She smelled like rank garbage.

She shot them a look. Scott was stunned. Jean made a noise. Then she rose and threw herself at Magneto with a roar.

"Ah want t'see Mystique!"

"In due time, child," Magneto said, his voice condescending.

"Why are you doin' this? Ah'm on your side!"

He grabbed her hair forcing her head back. "I want to see just what Mystique has planned before I allow her to have you." He jerked her head back. She shot out a hand to touch his face. And waited. He laughed and thrust her off of him.

"Ah need to see a doctor!" she whined. "Sinister did somethin' to me! Ah need to see Momma! Lance said she was here, now I demand to see her!"

This got his attention. Scott slowly got to his feet, wondering if they could somehow take Magneto and run for freedom. Jean stood with him.

"Don't," he said, turning to them, a pistol in his hand. "even think about it. I have more important matters to attend to." Without a word he swept out of the room, slamming the lock shut behind him.

* * *

Ingrid: hopes this satisfies you!

Wen1: Well, I'm glad you are enjoying it, I actually wasn't a fan of Scott and Jean particularly until I found out they broke them up, so I'm glad I can keep Jott fans happy! And the for the sake of this story Rogue is a red-head, that makes the two!

ishandahalf: I promise more Remy in the future :)


	12. Miscommunications

DISCLAIMER: Well in this continuity the X-men are Marvel's and I'm not making any money. But their are always alternate timelines. Now if I only I had a dimension jumper...

* * *

"Scott's gone."

"And Jean."

"Whoa, don't you think we should give them a little privacy?" Bobby said, smirking.

"Don't be an idiot," Warren said, grabbing the boy by the collar of his t-shirt. He wanted to shake the little git until he had some common sense. His fingers got cold. He pulled them away with a sigh. "Sorry. I'm just under a lot of stress." He raked a hand through his gorgeous blonde locks, shaking them away from his eyes. "And they wouldn't 'run off' with Rogue going….well rogue on us."

"AWOL, would've worked as well," Hank quipped. "MIA. Or-"

"I can't get a reading on them." The Professor said. "Jean's not answering me."

"That can't be good. Any sign of Rogue?" Warren asked.

"Not sense Cerebro caught that brief flicker of her power last night." Xavier said. "Hank, go check Scott's room for signs, Warren, go check Jean's, please."

"Hey! I'll go check Jean's," Bobby said.

"No, Robert, Warren is more than capable. If you will, gentlemen?" Bobby pouted on the couch while the two men went to check. Warren came back within a few minutes, shaking his head. Bobby was questioning him about Jean's underwear when Hank came back in. He held a zip lock baggie.

"There's blood in the hallway and I found this," he said, giving it to the Professor. The small skull charm seemed eerie, drenched in scarlet. Like an omen of sorts.

"Mystique," he said. He looked at the three mutants in front of him. "We're going to need backup. One team to look for Rogue and one to look for Scott and Jean."

"But who? I mean, people ain't exactly lining up to sign up for the X-men." Bobby said.

"Warren, do you think you could give Ms. Braddock a call?"

He shrugged. "She's not too happy with me, right now." A soft smile played on his lips. "But I'll see what I can do."

"Hank, do you still correspond with Ororo?"

"Yes, we regularly send e-mails."

"Please, if you could try to contact her. And Bobby," he smiled at the boy who was grinning like a kid in a candy shop. More women in spandex? Could his life be any better? "I need you to get a hold of Ms. Pryde. And perhaps Mr. Rasputin? Tell them all," he said, encompassing Hank and Warren, "they will be duly rewarded for their services. But make sure they know the danger of the situation as well."

Bobby nodded and scurried off to his room. Hank had gone to email Ororo, and Warren could be heard arguing on the phone. Charles rubbed his forehead. His headaches had grown increasingly worse these past few days, and with the kidnapping of Scott, Jean, and Rogue. He was beginning to wonder if his dream was worth the lives of these young kids. He stared out the window. He wished for the company of his old friend, Eric. He could always talk him out of his bad moods. But now he was simply Magneto. There was nothing left of the bright eyed boy that been his confidante through the worst years of his life. He wondered what would become of his students if he would just leave them. Would they be better? Would he eventually lose them all anyways?

"Betsy's on her way, sir," Warren said, poking his head in the Professor's office. "Bobby's on the phone now and Hank's waiting for Ororo's reply. Is there anything else we can do? Is there anyone else we can call?"

The Professor shook his head. "I do not wish to drag these civilians into my mess, Warren. It is bad enough that I ask you to call on your friends, but as these times are, my friends are few and numbered." And evil. "This is best if we keep this within strict confines. I have some…shady contacts that I will have keep an eye out, but I do not wish to engage them with this."

"I understand. It's like a business venture, you know? Sometimes you have to bring in the crooked ones, if only to keep the good ones straight."

Charles smiled. He had forgotten how much Warren had grown under the added strain of managing a multi-million dollar company.

"Please, leave me now. I am going to continue to search for them using Cerebro. After," he amended, "a few phonecalls."

Warren nodded and slipped out of the room. Charles picked up his secure line. He wondered if this were the right thing to do, then he resolutely dialed the number. She picked up after the first ring.

"Frost."

"I need you, and your…colleague's….help."

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Scott demanded.

Rogue sniffed primly and turned around, eyeing her surroundings. She marched to window and peered through, huffed loudly, and investigated the door. She wavered, then pushed against it with all her might. Then she sat on the floor, peering at her hands.

"Power dampeners," Jean supplied. "That's why you couldn't absorb him."

"Hmph. The first time Ah wish for mah damn powers." She turned to look at them. "Who shot ya?"

"Where's LeBeau?"

"The little pansy ran off."

"Where did he take you?" Scott demanded again.

"Who shot ya?"

"Mystique."

"Why?" she retorted.

"Where did he take you?"

"Sinister's. But he didn't want me. He wanted her," she pointed to Jean. "So Gambit…rescued me, if you could call that sorry excuse for an escape a resue."

"What happened to your hair?" Jean asked.

"Why did Mystique shoot ya?"

"Why does Sinister want Jean?"

Rogue shrugged. "Ah didn't exactly have the nicest time at Sinister's. He was about as forthcomin' with information as ya'll are being," she said, nastily.

"Mystique somehow broke into the mansion and shot us and dragged us here. Now I wonder if you didn't have something to do with it?" he was angry. Jean wondered if the anger was covering up hurt? And why would that really matter? "She didn't exactly tell us why she was taking us here, either."

"For me," Jean supplied, huskily. "She wanted me too."

"Why do you smell like garbage?"

"I was thrown into a dumpster."

Scott rubbed his head.

"It ain't like ya'll exactly smell like roses, either!" she said. "More like old gym socks."

"Who threw you in a dumpster?"

"Gambit."

"I thought he rescued you," he was getting exasperated.

"He did." Scott wanted to choke her. In fact, without her powers, he could. It was getting really tempting. He wanted that smug little smile off her face. Jean placed a hand on his arm.

"So he rescued you by throwing you in a dumpster?" Jean asked. How could she sound so damned pleasant? Scott was seeing red, only literally, not figuratively.

"No. He rescued me, then wrecked the car, then I flew us to Mystique's, then he blew me up into a dumpster, then when I got to Mystique's, Lance said she had come here, and when I got here, Magneto dragged me down into here with you. There, my whole life's story," she said.

"Wait a minute, you flew?" Scott asked.

"Yeah," she said, her voice tiny. "I don't know how."

"Well there's this funny thing called gravity, and-"

"Scott," Jean scolded. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she said, a bit amazed. "You'd think a card blowing up in your face and crushing a dumpster would at least leave a scratch. But nothin'."

"What did Sinister do to you?"

She shot evil eyes at Scott. "He was in mah head. He…mucked with it, Ah guess. He took Carol and-" she clamped her mouth shut.

"Who's Carol?" Jean asked.

"Ms. Marvel." Scott said, coldly. "What did you do to Ms. Marvel?"

"Ah absorbed her," she said, viciously. "completely. She was in mah head, like a separate entity. She tried to take over me," she nodded to Jean, "like that day at the pharmacy. And then when Sinister came into mah head, he made my psychic self absorb her psychic self. Ah don't know what it did. Ah just can't hear her anymore. And," she said to Jean, "she wanted you too."

"Ms. Marvel can fly," Scott said, "and she's invulnerable, possesses super strenght, and a like sixth sense of impending danger. Or, she did. She was a contract mercenary. She's been missing for about a month."

"Bingo," Rogue said.

"Ah, hello," a voice said. "I couldn't help but overhear. I'm Kurt, but in ze Munich circus I vas known as ze Amazing Nightcrawler!"

"What th'Hell?" Rogue said, coming to her feet. She went over to the window. "Who's there?"

"My name is Kurt, but in ze-"

"Yes, yes, alright. But who are you?"

"I am Mystique's son, being held prisoner against my vill. And you, fraulien?"

"Son?" she stepped back from the window and began pacing the small confines. "She never said…Irene might've….but Ah thought she meant…but with…son?" she stopped and marched back to the window. "Did you know?"

"No. I vas adopted by a circus family. I never knew who my real parents vere."

"Hmm." Rogue said. "Why would…oh! Jesus Christ, Magneto, you bastard!" She went to the door. "You bastard! It's all because of you, isn't it?" She banged her fists on the sheet metal. "Ah'll kill you! Ah'll rip out your insides and stuff them back up your-" the door opened. Rogue tumbled forward, and was caught by a man in a trench coat.

"Well, 'ello, petite."

* * *

Oh and I apologize for Kurt's horrible, horribly accent.

Next up: New recruits! And we'll find out what that rascaly Cajun's up too!


	13. Go Fish

DISCLAIMER: The X-men, all likenesses and variations, belong to Marvel.

* * *

"I'm glad you all could join us," Charles said, looking at the group gathered before him. "but I want to make clear the danger of the situation. We know that Mystique has or has had contact with Scott and Jean. She is a very dangerous assassin and was lastly under the employment of Magneto. We don't know where Rogue is, she was kidnapped yesterday morning by Remy LeBeau, a mutant known as Gambit, who is employed under Sinister. He is also extremely dangerous, believed to be an Alpha level mutant. As I said you will be rewarded for your work, or, in the worst case, your loved ones shall be. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," was the chorus of replies.

"If anybody wishes to leave they may do so at anytime with no repercussions. That said, does anyone wish to go now?" No one replied. Charles nodded his head gingerly.

"Alright, then we'll split into teams. Beast, Storm, and Collosus will search for Rogue. There was a brief flare of her power here," he said, pointing to the computer-generated map of New York, around 12 a.m. last night. Sinister has suspected bases here and here. Those will be the areas designated for your search. Angel, Psylocke, Iceman, and Shadowcat, your mission will take you here, to the Brotherhood's Base. Also these are the coordinates for Magneto's base. I have an operative there, as well as in position where Rogue's power was spotted, available for radio contact on our frequencies, call names Alpha and Beta. I wish to keep constant radio contact. Beast, your group will take the Blackbird for your search is less localized. Angel's group, you shall take the X-jet. Any questions? Good. Remember what I said about constant radio contact. If there is any type of problem, do not hesitate to pull out."

Charles watched them go with a mixture of apprehension and guilt. While he had had his X-men do various things, growing increasingly dangerous in the past few months, nothing had been to this level. A direct attack on Magneto's base? He'd have never considered it previously. But Scott and Jean were like a son and a daughter to him. He hated that it was his fault that they were in danger, and that he had to put more lives at risk to rescue them, lives that hadn't the least to do with himself and his dream.

His head was pounding. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a bottle of pills. He wanted to be as lucid as possible, but he needed something to take the edge off. He would be no help in the state he was in now.

"Be safe," he said, his mind voice projecting, "my X-men."

* * *

"Fancy meetin' you here."

"Isn't this a cute reunion?" a voice sneered, then shoved the pair back into the cell.

"Fuck you, Sabretooth!" Gambit said, slamming his fist on the door. There was a chuckle from the other side.

"It's getting right crowded in here," Scott remarked sourly.

"You!" Rogue shouted. "Ah'm gonna kick your ass, Swamp Rat!"

"Try it, chere. Remy's itchin' for a fight!" he replied, crowding his face close to hers and biting the air in front of her nose. She let out an infuriated breath then leaped on him, her hands wrapping around his neck and causing him to go crashing to the floor. He rolled easily, placing her beneath him and breaking her hold. He smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose. This caused Rogue to grow even angrier, and she drew her fist back to punch the living daylights out of his smug little face when he caught her hand easily.

"If you wanted to give Remy a kiss, chere, all you have to do is say pretty please," he mocked grinning at her. She spat on him, squirming beneath him. She finally gave up, face red and flustered. He was grinning at her and she wondered if it was because of the squirming. Well, that's all he'd ever get!

"I wouldn't kiss you even if I were able to!" she retorted. Not that she wasn't able to now, or that his face was tantalizingly close, or any of that. It was all she could think of as a comeback with his demonic eyes glowing into hers. And his lips. And his… elbow was digging painfully in her ribs. And his knee was in a rather awkward place.

"I missed you too, darlin'," he said, playfully.

"Get offa me!" she growled at him. "Before I castrate you and feed your penis to donkies."

He rolled off of her laughing. "Donkies, chere? Vicious animals, oui?"

"Shut up," she snapped, pushing her tangled hair out of her eyes. She glared at him, then glared at Scott who was watching her with an angry expression, then glared at Jean for the hell of it, although she merely looked amused. Maybe concerned. Maybe it was pain from her gunshot wound. Well, she'd just glare at Gambit then.

"What does Sinister want with Jean?" Scott demanded of Gambit. Remy cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head to side. Rogue wished she didn't find it appealing. Because she did, she wanted to bash him over the head with something heavy…something like a metal pot that would make a satisfying sound when it connected with his scraggly locks.

"Don't know. Don't ask. Jus' doin' my job."

"Obviously not," Rogue amended, "if you got me instead."

"Perhaps dat was what I was goin' for, non? It was love at first sight, chere!"

Perhaps a steel girder would be more satisfying. Ooh, or a bedpan! A full bedpan. Definitely better than a pot. She made a face at him.

"Your beauty," he said, kissing his fingers and flicking them at her, "is immeasurable."

"So you were just going to turn over an innocent woman to a pyschotic murderer?" Scott said. "Without knowing why?"

"Non. I was goin' t'pretend to give her t'him, t'get my…well…den I was going t'rescue her. I'm a fool for a damsel in distress. 'Specially if she be as lovely as you, chere," he said to Jean. She giggled. Rogue wanted to hit her too. In fact, she wanted to hit them all.

"If your plan was ta rescue her like you did me, Ah think she'd be better off on her own," Rogue said, bitingly.

"You wound me," Remy said, dramatically clutching his heart.

"Don't tempt me, Cajun."

"Stop your bickering!" Scott shouted. What was it about Gambit that made him act like such a dick? He shot a glaring look at the two Southerner's, who were sporting twin angelic smiles. And Remy was casting flirtatious glances at Jean, and she was preening like a damn peacock. He wanted to hit somebody.

"Guten tag, freund. I am Kurt, but in ze Munich circus, I vas known as ze Amazing Nightcrawler!" Yellow eyes peered through the window, blue fingers curved around the bars that separated them. He smiled and waved enthusiastically.

"Mon dieu! What in Tante Mattie's gumbo is dat?"

"That," Rogue said "Is my brother."

"Hello!" Kurt said cheerily.

* * *

He stared at his enemies hard, trying to read their expressions. The eyes stared back at him, hard, cold, and indifferent, respectively. They were good; he'd give them that. But he was better. He was trained to be. He couldn't be bested at his own game. He took no prisoners and left no soul untouched from his wrath. No one was safe. He smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Rogue," he said, his voice husky and deep. She started and looked at him, eyes heavy. "Do you have any t'rees?"

"Go Fish, swamp rat!" she said, gleefully.

His hand lingered over the Fish pile and he pulled the top one so fast it was almost as if it had never been there.

"Ah ha!" he said, not containing the excitement in his voice. "Fished my wish!" And showed the three of hearts with a gleam of triumph.

"Jean, do you have any Queen's?"

"What are you doing?" Scott demanded. "It's my turn!"

"I fished my wish, mon ami, dat means I go again."

"Since when?"

"Since de game was invented, homme."

"Your cheating!" Scott hissed. "I won't play with a cheater! You're nothing but a swindler, a punk, and…and…a bad man!"

"Ooh!" Rogue said, laughing. Even Jean hid a smile. "That's a comeback if Ah ever heard one. Remy, ya gonna defend your honor, sugar?"

"If I had honor t'defend, petite. You, Scott, I challenge you to a game of War, winner makes Go Fish rules!"

"Fine," Scott said, viciously.

Remy produced another pack of cards from his pocket with a smile. He tossed it to Jean. "Remove the Jokers, madame," he said, with a wiggle of his eyes. "But Rogue is okay t'stay."

"Beat the pants off him, Scott," Rogue said.

"So you do want to see me wit' my pants off! You do love me! I never doubted for a minute chere!" he said, pulling Rogue into his lap and dipping her over his knees. "Now we seal our love wit' a little kiss!"

"Go ahead and try it," Rogue said. Her hand crept to his rather sensitive areas. "I triple dog dare ya!"

"It's okay t'be shy. We wait till we have more private surroundings." He shoved her off him unceremoniously. She kicked his shin with her combat boots and sat down by Jean. The two boys squared off, Remy grinning and Scott's face hard as rock. It was a rather vicious game to watch, neither man gaining a clear advantage and neither wanting to budge an inch. Remy took the lead, only to have it snatched back by Scott, but Remy managed to pull out the victory.

"Can't beat a t'ief at cards!" he said.

"You can shove those cards up your ass. If you hadn't been hiding an ace up your sleeves!"

"You insult me!" Remy said, the smile never leaving his swarthy face. "I would do no such t'ing!"

"Boys," Jean said. "Do I have to separate you?"

"Oui, I've been a bad boy," Remy said. "I t'ink I need a spanking!"

"Oh please. Does anybody fall for that shit you spill from your mouth?" Scott asked, bitter that he had lost. He couldn't help it. The man flirted shamelessly with both Rogue and Jean in the same breath. And while Rogue seemed to detest the very air he breathed, Jean smiled and batted her eyes.

"You got somet'in' better?" Remy asked.

"Sure," Scott said.

"Prove it," Remy prodded. "Go on, flirt wit' Rogue."

"Me? Nothin' works on me. Flirt with Little Miss Bat-my-eyelashes-one-hundred-times here."

"Rogue, black is a really good color for you. It doesn't make you look fat."

"What?" Rogue said. Remy laughed.

"Jean," Scott said, smiling. "Your so smart you don't have to look good."

"Excuse me?" Jean said, twin spots of red marring her cheeks. Rogue laughed.

"Well, Ah'm fat, you're ugly, and the Cajun here is a bad man. Tell us what ya really think, Scott," Rogue said between giggles.

"What?" Scott asked.

"Mon ami," Remy replied. "Dose were de single saddest lines I ever heard. A woman wants t'be tol' she's beautiful."

"I said that!" he bit back.

"No, what you said was Rogue, black don't make you look fat, therefore she t'inks she looks fat in everyt'ing else. But how a body like dat could be fat, I swear I'd spend every moment of my time eating! And you tol' Jean she's so smart she doesn't have to look good, derefore, she doesn't look good. But her astounding beauty is only enhanced by her magnificent brain."

"Can it," Rogue said. "Ah think Ah liked Scott better. At least he didn't make me feel dirty," she said. "Just fat."

"You are not fat!" Scott said.

"Only when Ah'm not in black, right?"

"What?" Scott said.

"It's women, Scotty-boy. You will never understand dem. Dey take everyt'ing you say and twist it in their small, weird little minds into somet'ing mean an' horrible. It's a feminie t'ing. I t'ink it has t'do wit' dere," his voice dropped to a whisper, "mont'ly visitor."  
"Oh please," Jean said, rolling her eyes. "It has to do with thinking instead of walking where our penises point us!"

"Hello, chere," Remy said, suddenly at her side and smiling at her. She pushed him away with a laugh. Rogue wanted to hit him. Scott wanted to bash his face into the door.

"Can we get back to Go Fish?" Scott asked.

"Yeah," Rogue said, "I want to finish kickin' ya'll's asses!"

"I'm hungry," Remy remarked. "When we getting dinner in dis joint?" he spread his cards out in his hands.

"More importantly, how are we gonna break out?" Scott asked.

"You have any Kings?" Rogue asked.

* * *

Rogue200315: If I even tried to write Rogue and Bobby I think I'd barf. Although, Shawn Ashmore is a cutie!

DemonicGambit: If you command, I must obey!

ishandahalf: takes gold stars and sticks them all over her gambit shrine.

sanae: nice to know you're still bumbling along with me!


	14. Friends and Enemies

DISCLAIMER: Marvel's although they don't treat 'em right!

* * *

No one had ever accused Emma Frost of being a nice woman. But she found Charles quaint, and his little hippie band of mutants amusing at times. The sweet man had really tried to do his best by her, taking her in and all that, but his best had been sorely lacking. She had been after bigger fish in better waters. But she found a bit of nostalgia in her cold little heart for the place she had once called home.

That, however, did not extend to his lackeys. A few minutes of radio contact showed her that they were utterably insipid, and of no use whatsoever in the kind of mission it was turning out to be. She checked her watch for the fiftieth time, shouldering her plasma rifle. You'd think a telepath wouldn't need a rifle, but Emma enjoyed the feeling of power she got holding it.

Yeah, she was messed up at twenty years old.

She had clawed her way to where she was now, a queen among the underworld. She had fought tooth and nail to get there, and it hadn't been easy. There was already a string of murders and crimes attached to her name, better known as the White Queen. She had many shady dealings, but every now and then she liked to do what was for the good of her kind. Even if it meant working for goody-two shoes Xavier and his pets.

She heard them before she saw them. She thought it was awfully sloppy of them. She shot a round at them, just for kicks, her silencer on. The blonde hunk took to the sky, spreading out wings that blocked the sky, an obvious target. A skinny little brunette grabbed the boy next to her and the bullets passed through them like they weren't even there. The purple haired woman dodged them easily enough, her fist glowing in a sort of psychic sword.

"Katana, love," she said, sweetly. "And stop shooting at us if you don't want it lodged in your head."

"Just seeing what Charles has to put up against me," she said. "Not much, if he's letting these kittens out to play," she said, looking at Shadowcat and Iceman.

"Haven't changed, Emma," Warren said, wearily.

"If that means being a coldhearted uber bitch," Bobby said.

Emma laughed. "Darling Robert, so cute," she pinched his cheek. He swatted at her, his fist forming to ice. She laughed again "Tut, tut, Robert," Emma said, wrapping an arm around him. "Such language around the ladies." He shrugged her off. "Well then, are we ready for a break in?"

"How are we supposed to do that?" Shadowcat asked.

"The other contact is on the inside," Emma said. "She's looped the security feed for ten minutes and will keep the guards…occupied."

"Do you know if they are even here?" Warren asked.

"Of course they are. Do you think Mystique would take them anywhere else? But let me guess, you sillies checked the Brotherhood house, and were…delayed a bit by Blob and the other useless cronies, hmm?" She laughed throatily, the sound carrying on the cold air. "Rogue came here, as well, looking for Mystique. And another mutant was captured outside the perimeters."

"Must be LeBeau, if Rogue is here," Warren said. "Betsy, get in contact with Beast and tell them to rendezvous with us here."

"Sure thing," Betsy said. She walked off a bit and spoke into the communicator she wore on her breast. "They'll be here in fifteen minutes."

"Good. We wait until then," Warren said. "And no shooting at them when they arrive," he warned Emma.

"Who me? Wouldn't dream of it," she said innocently, smiling up at him.

* * *

"I have to use the bathroom," Rogue said.

"Would you stop complaining?" Gambit hissed at her. He stood by the door, waiting for someone to open it. He was hoping to hit them and escape. The card game had digressed into name-calling and almost came to blows between the two boys, so they decided to call it quits. It only did so much in keeping their minds off their predicament, anyways.

"Well, you'd be complainin' too if ya hadn't used the bathroom all day!" she retorted, angrily, dancing in place. "And Ah stink!"

"At least you're not shot," Scott said glumly, looking at his red stained bandages. "They could have given us some pain pills," he said to Jean. She nodded soberly.

"Aww, poor baby," Remy mocked, making a face. "Shh! I hear someone coming."

The door clanged open viciously, and Rogue flew at the man coming in. She hit her shoulder painfully on the door, but managed to drag him down with her. Remy took the opportunity to step over their bodies, kicking the man in the ribs for good measure, and dashing outside the cell. He stopped short.

"Um. Dis ain't good."

"Why, hello, Gambit. Fancy meeting you here," Sinister said.

* * *

Scott eyed Rogue warily. She was holding her arm awkwardly, like she might have dislocated her shoulder. She sat against the wall looking at the door, blood marring her vision. She thought an hour might have passed since they took Sinister had taken Remy and Magneto had taken Jean, but she didn't know for sure. Toad had escorted her to the bathroom, and she had the faint, sick feeling he had watched her. She had washed as best as she could in the sink, but her clothes still reeked.

"What do you think they're doin' with them?" she asked.

"Don't know." He shrugged his shoulders.

Rogue rested her head on her knees, staring at the door, wishing she could have gone through it too. It would have been better than sitting in this little white room. Her stomach growled angrily, reminding her it had been a while since she last ate. She even wished for some of Beast's spaghetti right now, even if the sauce was burnt and the noodles were slimy.

"They're gonna rescue us, you know," Scott said.

"Who?"

"The X-men." Rogue snorted.

"All three of them? Besides they don't know Ah'm here. They'll come get you. They all love their little boy scout."

"We were getting ready to search for you when I was kidnapped," Scott said. It gave Rogue little comfort. Her arm ached terribly. She heard scuffling outside the door, but she was too tired, too sick, to even attempt an escape. After Sabretooth had pushed her off him, clawing her face and chest in the process, Magneto had choked her. She rubbed her bruised throat. She wouldn't try something that stupid again.

Someone beat on the door, the sound of metal against metal. Rogue flinched and sat upright. If they weren't opening it with a key…

"Hello," a voice said, with a heavy Russian accent, belonging to a man made completely of metal.

"Um." Rogue said.

"We're the cavalry," a girl, dotted with freckles said.

Rogue and Scott stood, as the others crowded the doorway.

"We have to get out of here, quick," Warren said. "Where's Jean?"

"Magneto took her," Scott said. "Did you bring my visor?"

Warren shook his head. "Do you know where he took her?"

"No," Rogue replied. "And Sinister took Gambit."

"Sinister?" Hank said. "Oh shit. And that's a scientific term," He added.

"We have to get Kurt," Rogue said, pushing past them into the hallway. "He's in here," she pointed to the next cell. Colossus grabbed the handle and wrenched it off the door, then began beating it until it caved enough to open. There was darkness inside.

"Kurt?" Rogue called, peering inside. She saw his shadow sitting in the back of the room. "Come on, we're getting' outta here," she said.

"I appreciate it, fraulien, but I do not vish to scare your friends. Nor do I have anyplace to go, once I am free."

"So it's better to stay in here?" she asked. "Come on," she walked in and grabbed his arm, dragging him into the light. There was a moment of silence as the X-men took in the blue skinned mutant Rogue held on to, fiercely. "This is Kurt," she said. "He's my brother."

Someone applauded from behind them. Rogue turned, facing Mystique.

"Very noble, Rogue."

"You!" Rogue hissed at her. "Ah hate you."

Mystique's face remained impassive. "I see your 'contact' managed to get you in without being caught. And told you were to find Rogue."

"That was you? Why?" Hank asked. Mystique nodded.

"He had my children," she whispered, fiercely. "Besides Magneto got what he wanted and this way he has no hold over me any longer."

"Nice time ta start actin' like a mother," Rogue said.

"We don't have time for this," Scott said, eyes clamped shut. Shadowcat had him by the arm. "We have to find Jean!"

"She's with Magneto, you'll have no chance of rescuing her."

"Leave that up to us to decide, lady," Psylocke said.

"Idiots! Do you want to get caught?" Mystique said. "I've made sure you have a clear shot out of here, but you have to go now!"

"No!" Rogue said. "Ah won't let him mess with them like he did with me!"

"What do you mean?" Mystique asked.

"Sinister. Ah know what you did to me, Momma."

Mystique visible blanched at that. "You know nothing."

"What do you want with Jean?" she demanded.

"I want nothing with her," Mystique growled. "She was nothing more than a bargaining chip."

"What does Magneto want with her?" Scott demanded.

Mystique glanced at her watch. "Magneto recently came into possession of a necklace of great and mystical power that can allow him to become immortal as well as shift the world into a version he likes better," her face twisted and she spoke hurriedly, "The only problem is those with a great will can overcome the effects of the necklace."

"So what does that have to do with Jean?" Iceman asked.

"She is the strongest mind in the world, therefore, with her influence, she can break the wills of those that might oppose him."

"And what does Sinister get out of the deal?" Scott demanded.

"A vessel for his virus, which can mutate human DNA, that will transmit the virus telepathically into all minds."

"Oh my God," Warren said. "That's just sick!"

"That," Mystique said, "isn't the worst part."

"It gets worse?" Iceman groaned.

"It further evolves the DNA of mutants."

"Meaning?"

"You tell me, Dr. McCoy," she said. "Is Jean the strongest telepath you know? Look, you have about a one minute window to escape safely. After that," she said, shouldering her gun, "you are on your own."

"We have to get Jean?"

"This doesn't make sense!" Rogue said. "What does Sinister want with Gambit? Why did you make me absorb Carol, if you were gonna kidnap Jean to give her to Magneto?"

"Did you ever wonder why he was working for Sinister in the first place, girl?" Mystique snarled. Rogue looked a bit stunned.

"Where would he take her?" Scott demanded.

"My assistance to you is done, X-men. Tell Charles all debts are repaid."

Rogue grabbed her before she could walk away. "If you won't tell us, Ah'll take it from you!" she said, plastering her hand across her foster mother's cheek. Immediately she felt the rush of her powers, the flood of memories and psyche that made Raven Darkholme who she was. Mystique.

She let the unconscious body drop to the floor. She grabbed Mystique's gun as her flesh began to ripple. She couldn't hold form and it felt as if her flesh were being torn apart."Ah know," she gasped, gripping her head, "where they are. But something's not right!"

"You got that one, right, love," Emma Frost said, leveling her rifle at her.

* * *

Confused? You should be! So here's what we know so far. Magneto originally wanted Rogue (remember the "she's gone" conversation?). Gambit kidnapped Rogue but it turns out Sinister wanted Jean for his virus to mutate humans and further mutate mutants. Mystique had Rogue absorb Carol to kill/absorb Jean. Carol told Sinister Mystique wanted her to "kidnap" Jean.Sinister merged Carol and Rogue in Rogue's head. Now Sinister and Magneto are working together,Sinister to create a supermutant and transmit his virus and Magneto to break the wills of those that would oppose the necklace. Xavier's contacts are Emma Frost and Mystique, and Mystique has turned good to help the X-men. I promise you, it will all be explained in the end, but I know you were probably getting confused (I was!). So stick with me. There are some other clues throughout as well-but I don't want to give to much away!

Thanks for the kind reviews, I'm too tired to personalize 'em, I promise I will next time!


	15. Omega

It's Marvel's, although they just keep screwing them up.

* * *

He had been called 'Le Diable Blanc'. Nuns had spat at his feet; unholy men had crossed themselves when they walked past. Children wailed at the sight of him. Sinners repented their sins upon seeing him. Atheist broke down and wept at his feet. His eyes marked him a demon, an unholy thing. But he had never known true evil, until this day.

And it would forever haunt his nightmares.

Jean lay on the bed next to him, her eyes large green pools against her pale skin. Her red hair pooled around her head like rusty blood. She was silent, her eyes moving, taking everything in.

"Jean? You okay?" Remy asked, disturbed by her appearance. She turned to him, slowly, a smile spreading languidly over her pretty face. It seemed oddly out of place. Her eyes seemed huge, as if they were expanding to take up her entire face, and trying just as hard to suck him into their endless stare. She extended her fingers and brushed the skin against the back of his hand. Her hand was like ice, leaving scratches of pure pain wherever they touched.

"In a little while, I'll be fine," she said, her voice echoing loudly in the small room. She looked at him, her forehead crinkling for a moment, her mouth in a silent gasp of pain, looking at him as if she really saw him. "Gambit, you'll have to kill me! Tell Scott I-," then she screamed in pain, her chest heaving off the bed but her hands still clamped to it, contorting her body. She fell back, silent, unconscious, her hand still touching his. His pulled away from her, wishing he too could fall into the blissful numbness of his own mind.

And that he could forget what she had said.

They had only been here about an hour, but had been unconscious for part of it. He wondered what had happened to Rogue and Scott, now that they had seemingly outlasted their usefulness. He was especially worried for Rogue. It was the striking similarity between them that drew him too her. Something in his soul cried out to her. To her uncontrollable powers. To the overwhelming grief they caused. He knew what it was like. That's how he ended up here.

He hated hospitals. Sinister had done that. Remy had known he was crazy from the first time he met him. But he needed help. He didn't want to kill again, because of his powers. He wanted them gone. He wanted to go back to the Guild. And Sinister was the only mutant specialist he had ever heard of.

So he had agreed to the surgery, and the fee Sinister would extract from him. He didn't know what would happen. But Sinister hadn't cured him, he had just removed an excess part of his gray matter that had caused his powers to go haywire. He could control it again, and they reacted to a lesser extent. Sometimes, secretly, he wished for his old powers, his strong powers, that he could blow things up without touching them. But it was dangerous. Deadly. And it sickened him. But at times it was simpler too. He wouldn't have had to work for Sinister. Maybe he could have gone back to New Orleans, to the Guild, and to Belladonna. But he would never know.

"That's not the worst of it," a woman said, slinking into the room. Her blonde hair was pulled severely back from her striking face, showing the hard glare she gave him. Her blue eyes flickered over Jean briefly, and an emotion, like envy came over her eyes. She stopped between them, her fingers running over Jean's face, tenderly. Something like sadness entered her hard features, then it was gone, replaced again by coldness.

"I'll see you in Hell," she whispered into the other girl's ear. Then she turned to Remy.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"No one of any importance to you, love," she said, leaning over him. She looked at his face, curiosity apparent. "So you're the Omega level. Huh."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't know?" she said innocently. "What Sinister really did?"

"No." Remy said. "An' I don't care!" he said, explosively.

The woman laughed, throwing her ponytail back over her shoulder. "Sure you don't. I'm a telepath. I know all your thought," she said lowly, seductively, almost purring at him. "And I know what he did to you. He removed the part of your brain that centered your powers. The part that made you an Omega level mutant, but that also made you lose control," her voice changed, became loud, echoing as Jean's had earlier. "He didn't tell you that. But then, he used the DNA he exerted to create his virus, so he wouldn't tell you that, now would he?" Her laugh was chilling, like nails across a chalkboard.

"Who are you?"

"I just worked for Sinister. But there were better things for me. I had a higher purpose," she showed him the blood staining her white gloves. "That's the blood of your friends, your enemies," she said.

"What could my DNA do?" he asked.

"Your X-factor bonded to your DNA much like a virus, Gambit, rather than the normal way X-factor does. It went into your DNA and changed it when your powers first manifested, rather than being born with it as a part of your DNA, and the gene expressing itself upon first manifestation. That said, I wondered if it could go into a normal human and create mutations in them. Gambit, meet Emma Frost, mutated by your own DNA." Sinister said, placing a hand on the blonde woman's shoulder. She smiled up at him. "So that made me wonder, what could it do to mutants? My first experiments did not fair so well. Then I realized their genes weren't strong enough. And I knew of only two people whose genes were."

"So why am I here now?" he demanded.

"Your little…temper tantrum destroyed my viable DNA. So I extracted some more and inserted it into the genetically perfect Jean Grey."

"You are a monster!" Remy hissed.

"But, I also took the opportunity to surgically reattach that mutated center of your brain that made you Omega level. As well as something else," Sinister said, smiling. "You are now mine, Gambit, if you wish to control your powers."

"You did what?" Remy asked, eyebrow arching. He warred to keep the smile off his face.

"Are you stupid, I-"

Gambit felt for that center. That piece of him that had been missing. That piece of him that made him something more, something powerful. And he found that part of him, that part that wasn't genetic, that allowed him to access something that was greater than even he knew.

And his restraints exploded.

* * *

Magneto sat in his throne, staring out the window. Something was bothering him. Something wasn't right. He fingered the necklace, the cool stones gliding liquidly through his fingers. He wished Essexwould finish with Jean, so he could have her.He looked at the girl in front of him, utterly dazzling in her defiance and anger. Blood dripped from her nose, over her lips. He wanted to kiss those lips. And he was sickened by it. 

He felt wrong. Tainted. Dirty. Something was poisoning him from the inside. The girl stared at him, her eyes like judgment. He wanted to be better in her eyes. He wanted redemption.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked her.

"No," she said, spitting blood from her mouth. She shifted, her arms tied behind her back. Hank had popped her shoulder back into its socket, but it was still painful.

"I wanted you, first. I wanted it to be you. You're so young, so strong, so apparently willful. But I know into your soul. I can see into your heart. And it's black. And weak. You were going to me my Lieutenant. Bringing in the New World. But something changed. Love changed." He fingered the necklace. And he knew that blackness was conquering him.

"You love me?" her face grew disgusted.

"No," he laughed, a brittle, bitter sound. "She loves him."

"Oookay, Riddler, I'm not Batman, you know," she said.

He smiled at her. How could he ever have thought her will was weak? Her spirit was indomitable. Her emerald eyes radiated heat. But the plans were bigger than his wishes. And he did wish to keep her. The others he would change, they would become his willful servants in the New World. But this one…he might just keep her whole, as she was.

His eyes were drawn to the necklace. Two emerald caught his eye, one dark and clear, as if it had been lab created. But it had not. The other was light and cloudy, like the more natural emeralds. Rogue's eyes. Jean's eyes. He smiled. They were the biggest stones on the necklace, the darker one snuggled against a blood red garnet, and the other mated with ruby. Other stones were forged into the white gold, but without an apparent pattern of frequency. It was from chaos that he would gain power. He wanted to put it around his neck, yearned for it as he had nothing else in his life. But it was not to be. Jean Grey would be the one to wear it. The one with the power to break those that would defy him. Then he smiled at Rogue. But not her.

Rogue glared at the old man sullenly. She worked the ropes that bound her hands, but a power inhibitor collar had been snapped around her neck. What could was invulnerability if you got your shoulder dislocated and your nose broken on the first day? She snarled silently and pulled at the ropes, biting back a cry when she stabbed her wrist with a fingernail.

She wondered what had happened to the others. Emma had caught her across the nose with her rifle when she tried to rush her. She needed to stop rushing people, she decided. Rogue had been seeing stars and little else, until Mystique looked up and winked at her. Then she quickly shifted into a teenage boy, stood up, and tried to attack Emma Frost as the others were. She was shoved into the cell with the rest. Then the collar had been snapped on Rogue and she had been led here. By Magneto. Who sat her down at his feet and then went to his throne to play with his necklace.

It was hideous. Big and gaudy. And the unevenness and asymmetrical placements of the jewels bothered her. Heckled her, she'd go so far to say. Made the hair on the back of her neck rise. As did Magneto's eyes. They were odd. Milky and far away. There were moment of brief lucidity in them, as he looked at her, but they were gone far too soon, and he was back to fondling his precious little necklace.

The ropes broke suddenly, wrenching her shoulder viciously. She rubbed her wrists, squirming a bit as she had been so not to draw attention to herself. She scooted herself slowly closer to Magneto's legs, as he was looking out the window and not at her. He sighed, placing his chin in his hand and letting the necklace dangle between his fingers.

Rogue decided that her plan of no longer rushing people would have to be implemented when she had more time to decide another plan of action, and rose to her feet, clashing her fists together and bringing them into Magneto's face. She chopped him in the neck, brought her combat boot up to his groin, turned, and ran for all she was worth.

She didn't get far. The change in magnetic fields caused her to rise off the ground slightly, static running down her arms and through her hair. He turned her with a casual flick of his hand, and she saw that his face was changed. Different. Blank.

And suddenly, she knew that it was no longer Magneto she was facing. It was someone far more dangerous.

"Pro…professor?"

* * *

So we have some answers now: 

Emma Frost works for Sinister and was created using DNA he extracted from Gambit's Omega Mutant brain center that Sinister had been using against Gambit, which has now be reinserted into Gambit's brain. He took out more DNA, remade his virus, and infected Jean with it, to infect all the humans of the world. Magneto is being controlled by the Professor, the same Professor that called both Emma Frost (who works for SInister, remember) and Mystique (who works for Magneto buthas now seemingly switched sides)to help the X-men...the question is why?

Sorry to keep ya'll waiting for so long...I had midterms this last week and it's been absolutely dreadful. This week is Spring Break, so I probably won't be updating till after then, however, I promise it will all be cleared up shortly...Till then, stay tuned!


	16. Betrayal and War

DISCLAIMER: The X-men are property of Marvel. Not mine.

* * *

Magneto-Xavier laughed, loving the pleasure jolt he received at Rogue's horrified reaction. Magneto had an odd fondness for her, but Xavier felt no such softness. He raised his hand, watching as the girl rose, still fighting it, and flung her into a wall. She crumpled with a loud groan, holding her shoulder. Her eyes were smoldering as she stared at him.

"What the Hell is going on?" she demanded.

"Foolish child. And to think I once thought that you were to be my Supermutant. It's no matter now. I have the one I want."

"Your behind this?" she demanded. Magneto-Xavier laughed, then warped the field around her neck so that it felt as if a hand were crushing her throat, then lifted her towards him by it. She struggled, clawing at neck, leaving crimson welts.

"I've been behind everything, from the very beginning. It started with Carol. Lovely, young Carol. Her mind was so sharp. At first I thought I could use her. But she was weak, you see. She loved me. And I thought if I melded with her, we'd be able to do it, to use the necklace. So I made her mind my own," the hand tightened around Rogue's throat. She gasped and grabbed at her throat again, and he loosened it. "But it only tainted her. That I was able to take over her mind made her even weaker. Made her unfit.

"Then I found you. All alone and malleable, but your mind was so powerful, even I couldn't breach it. So I took over Mystique. And I made you run away, and run to her. I lost control then, lost it to _Him_," Magneto-Xavier sneered. "But, during that brief time _he_ was in control, he had found the one. Jean Grey. And I wanted her. _He _thought _he_ had won, that _he_ was rid of me. But there was still Carol. She helped me regain control. How I enjoyed her mind. You wouldn't believe it. And she did it out of love. What a foolish, inconsequential emotion. Then I made Mystique make you absorb Carol, in essence, absorbing me. And through your absorption, I could control you, without tainting your mind. So I was going to have you absorb her. I had already made Sinister create his virus. Would you believe he originally intended to cure mutations? Now his "cure" will be used to super enhance mutations, while causing the rest of humanity to further evolve. Because we are the evolution. And I was going to use it to enhance Jean's telekinesis through you, to sway the wills of those that might oppose me…

"And then she met him…," he laughed. Rogue kicked his shin, but her foot bounced harmlessly off his armor. He didn't seem to notice. "And he made her doubt herself. And then I could have her, because she was strong enough to keep us separate in her minds._ He_ taught her that ," he giggled then, insanely. "But at that time, it was too late. Magneto had found the necklace, and he was determined to use it for his own good. Would you believe he was going to create the world as _he _wanted? Mutants and humans living in peace. It wasn't easy taking control of him. But through _him_ I could. After that, the pieces began falling into place. I had Sinister merge Carol and your psyche's, freeing mine to inhabit the mind of Emma Frost. You and Gambit escaping was an unforeseen side effect. I didn't know the boy would be so affected by you," he brought her closer to him. "Like I said, love is foolish.

"Then I had Mystique kidnap Scott and Jean. Then you came running back. It was almost too easy," Rogue was afraid of the insanity in his eyes. "Then Gambit came ruunninnng aaaafter," he singsonged. "But then," his voice changed into a sneer, "_he _managed to break free again. I had been giving him too much liberty. Allowing him too much freedom. See, he didn't really know about me."

"Who?"

"Xavier, of course."

"But-" he shushed her with another squeeze of her throat.

"_He _wanted to call for help. I made himcall Emma Frost, who had worked for him before she had gone to Sinister, who now was my primary host. Then he called Mystique. Did you know she was going to work for him, after she freed Kurt? No, I can see you didn't. She really did want to do what was best for you two. A little late but it was genuine. So then Emma foiled your little escape plot and Sinister has infected Jean with the virus, who even now could be at Omega levels. . ."

"Why are you doing this?" Rogue asked, her voice scratchy.

"Because this world is not fit for the likes of you! With the necklace, I will be in control! And the world shall recognize me, and all _Homo sapien superiores _as the rightful evolution of man! And I can create the world in _my_ image!"

"You're crazy," Rogue shouted at him. Magneto-Xavier looked at her, a smile carving Magneto's craggy features that was purely Xavier's. An evil smile. She struggled against him.

"Be that as it may, it is time you met your end." Rogue felt her blood heat. It felt as if it were carrying tiny razorblades throughout her entire body. She could feel it leaking from her eyes and ears and nose, and she began to struggle, violently, fiercely.

"Why is it dat you psychos always have t'explain your evil plot before doin' it? Don't you know dat's always your downfall?"

"Why is it that you pesky X-men keep interfering?" Magneto-Xavier roared. He dropped Rogue and turned to face the intruders. Gambit stood at the front; hand on his cocked hip, holding his recovered bo-staff. Angel's wings rippled as he moved forward, wishing to take to the heights of Magneto's throne room. Electricity flowed off Storm, dancing along her hands. Beast and Iceman stood ready, Shadowcat at their side, anger marring her cute, pixie like face. Psylocke's fist glowed brilliantly in the dim light. Colossus stood at his full, impressive height and Mystique stood next to him, an Uzi in her hands. Cyclops was in the back, holding the limp body of Jean Grey, Nightcrawler's blue hand on his shoulder. Magneto-Xavier laughed, full, throaty. "You dare to defy me?"

"Yeah!" Rogue shouted, darting forward and wrenching the necklace from his hands. He halted her progress magnetically, but a card exploded in his face, sending him reeling back.

The battle for the world had begun.

* * *

Let me know if something still isn't clear, I have it all in my head and I can't tell if anything got lost in the transcription!

Thanks,

Kinsella


	17. Battle

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men. And I'm obviously not making any money off of them...cause I'm broke!

* * *

"Wake up!" A voice chanted at him, from a far off distance. Through the whirling, violent mindscape, he could not discern the speaker. Faces leered at him, large and convoluted in the wake.

"What's happening?" he demanded.

"Your mind has split. All that you have fought to prevent has happened. Your X-men need you!"

"Split…I don't understand."

The shadows about him stopped, smoothing into tranquility. A woman sat in front of him, her face vaguely familiar. Her shiny red hair lay smooth on her scalp, as if the winds in this place did not bother her.

"Your inner demon. You gave him a name. He is all that is repressed by you, all that is bad and evil, all that makes you a mortal man." Her voice was soft but her eyes gleamed at him, stark and harsh. "Onslaught."

"No!" Xavier cried. "I had him beaten. I had him destroyed."

"It is not so," the woman said, shaking her head. "He merely left, merged with another body and another body, searching. He could not find a host powerful enough, until you contacted Magneto."

"Eric? He's in Eric? Then there is no hope!" Xavier cried. "Eric has a soul, at least, while Onslaught…"

"Does not have the good that is you, Charles Xavier." Charles bowed his head into his hands.

"This is all my fault."

"No more than any other man who represses the dark side. Instead of a battle, as a normal mind would, for dominance, your Good half merely created a separate entity from itself and literally battled one another. But Onslaught will not rest with Magneto. His plans are set in motion, and Jean is even now fighting for control of her very essence. They need your help. I need your help."

"Who are you?"

"A…friend. An anomaly born if the events set into place today succeed, in a world that is much different, and much worse, than any you could ever imagine. I can only reach you here, but there is someone waiting to help you on the outside."

"How do I get out of here? How can I defeat him?"

"Onslaught is _you._ How would you defeat yourself? And all you have to do, Charles," she said, leaning close to him, her lips to his forehead. "Is wake up."

* * *

Rogue fell to the ground in an undignified heap. Her head was ringing, and the necklace she clutched dug painfully into her collarbone. Xavier's eyes laughed at her from Magneto's face, eyes that were eerie and insane.

"You think you can defeat Onslaught?" he roared. "Nothing can defeat me! I know all your fears, all your weaknesses, and I have such power!" His voice throbbed on the tension filled air, his face maniacal in the dim light. Gambit charged another card, the faint whistle breaking the silence after his outburst.

"Give it up…Magneto. Um, Xavier. Whoever the hell you are!" Scott roared. He was facing the wall. Nightcrawler turned him.

"Onslaught, my children! I am more than Xavier. I am better, than Xavier, I am all that he wishes he could be but will never let himself! Magneto is just the shell I inhabit, till I can have the true power, the real power. Give me the necklace!" He commanded, levitating himself above the floor, his hand extended to Rogue. She felt the tug of magnetism against the necklace, but she clutched it to herself desperately.

"Leave her alone!" Gambit yelled, letting his card fly. It was quickly followed by another.

That was all that was needed to set the rest of the X-men in action. Lightening arced across the ceiling, as Storm used the winds to make her rise in the air. Her eyes filmed over, a milky white, and the electricity danced along her fingertips. She let out a yell and it raced to Onslaught, striking the front of his armor and leaving a scorch mark down his chest plate. Psylocke's fist emitted it a faint purple light, but it grew stronger as she raced towards him, leaping at the last second and being caught by Angel, who maneuvered her closer to him. He let her fall, her fist aiming for his head, uncovered by his helmet….

He caught her with a backhand. She went spinning across the room, slumping against his throne as her head thudded off of it dully. Her katana faded into nothing. He slammed his helmet over Magneto's white locks, turning to the rest of the group. Gambit had his bo staff in one hand, racing around the room, all the while flicking his cards. Iceman struggled to turn his snow balls into ice shards, but they bounced harmlessly off the armor, as well as the rain of bullets Mystique was pumping into him. Colossus turned to metal in an instance, growing larger and crowding the room. He began a lumbering run at Onslaught, but the metal in his body allowed for Onslaught to pick him up and send him crashing into Storm. The electricity and wind died as she was caught by the big man and pinned to the wall. She began thrashing and screaming, as Colossus's unconscious body trapped her beneath it. Beast had managed to get close to him, jumped, and kicking him in the left shoulder with his powerful legs, the same instance that Nightcrawler teleported, aiming his kicks at his head. Onslaught took a mere step back from the deluge of kicks, even as Shadowcat joined in with punches to the areas the armor did not cover. She phased her arm in, attempting to solidify it within his body. She heard a crack and a tear, and with a scream she pulled her arm from him. It hung down limp and useless, blood running from the fingertips….

Onslaught turned and caught Nightcrawler by the tail. His psychic scream was so loud that all the people in the room paused for a moment, even as Nightcrawler's eyes rolled in his head and he fell from his mid-port in air to the ground. Beast flipped out of Onslaught's hold, crouching and sweeping a kick at his legs. Iceman froze Onslaught's feet to the ground, so Beast caught him in the knees. But Onslaught didn't move. With a laugh of pure glee he entered Iceman's psyche. The boy began to pelt Beast with ice particles that clung heavily to his blue fur. Onslaught then set Beast upon Iceman. Mystique jumped out of the way as the two dove at each other, fists and feet flying. She dropped her empty Uzi and raced to Rogue's side. Rogue was struggling to breathe, sure that her ribs had punctured her lung from the fall. Mystique grabbed her arm and heaved her to a stand.

"We have to get out of here!" she hissed.

"We can't abandon them!" Rogue gasped, doubling over in a fit of coughs. She looked up to see Onslaught slinging Colossus across the room. Storm struggled to her feet, but doubled over the pain in her head. Cyclops was in the corner, face tortured that he could not participate, for fear of blasting his teammates. "Momma, get me over there!" she said, pointing to where he stood over Jean's body. She heard a loud cry as Gambit went sailing past her. Psylocke had risen to her feet and was sparring with Onslaught, but he batted her away like a pesky fly. Mystique dragged her, half limping towards Cyclops. Rogue clutched the necklace to her chest, hoping they could keep Onslaught occupied until she reached Cyclops and Jean. Gambit was up and running, bo staff broken and thrown aside, cards fanned out in his hands as he threw them. Mystique threw her at Cyclops, even as she dodged Colossus's flying body. He caught her in the shoulder and she fell, but she managed to scrabble to her feet.

"Whatever you are going to do," she panted. "Do it quick!" And then she turned to join the fray.

"Scott!" Rogue cried. She grabbed his face, the pads of her fingers warm on his skin, chain knotted around her hand. "It ain't working!"

"Just direct me!" he barked. She moved behind him, peering over his shoulder, using her hands to position his head.

"Open!" she screamed. He blinked his eyes open, and a wide beam of red swept through the room. He slammed his eyes shut as it connected with Onslaught, causing him to fly backwards, taking Beast and Iceman with him. Onslaught picked himself out of the rubble easily, shaking off bits of rock. Gambit raced up behind him grabbing some of the debris to use as weapons, charging them and flinging them towards him.

Rogue held on to Scott's face, surveying the room. Beast and Iceman were down for the count, laying unconscious in the rubble. Angel was dodging Onslaught, but he had nothing more than his hands and feet, and was soon caught and sent flying into the throne. His wing caught in the chair and as he rose it was wrenched violently. Shadowcat had attempted to walk towards them, face pale from loss of blood, and had been knocked out by Colossus, who was currently pinned to the far wall. Psylocke was trying to pick herself up, but was too weak to rise to her feet. Storm lay in the corner, blood leaking from her nose and staining her white hair. Mystique was still on her feet, throwing rocks at Gambit to charge, who was racing around Onslaught.

"Open!" she screamed again, and another beam went slicing through the air, coloring the world around them red and hot. Onslaught flew back again, but this time he was more prepared. He grabbed Mystique, staring into her eyes. She fought his grip, her screams all the more terrifying because they couldn't see was she was seeing, even as she slipped from his grasp, running straight into a wall. She didn't rise. Gambit ran at Onslaught, using the man's shoulder to flip himself up and over, grabbing at his helmet as he went. He dragged it off the man, but tripped over Iceman. He fell, the helmet rolling from his hands. Even as he turned Onslaught was upon him, large boot pinning Gambit's throat to the ground. Gambit's hands came up and the boot began to glow, but before it could detonate, Onlsaught kicked him in the face. The glow faded.

"Now it is just us," he said. "The one I wanted, the one I need, and the one who made it all possible," he said, leering at them. He walked over the limp forms and the rubble, and grabbed his helmet, wiping the dirt off of it.

"Now!" Rogue said, but Cyclops was yanked from her hands, pulled forward by Onslaught.

"You," he said, bringing the man's face close to his own. "Must die!"

"Never!" shouted Scott, opening his eyes. Onslaught just laughed as the beam bounced harmlessly off the field he had erected about himself. He grabbed Cyclop's necks.

"With all the powers I have at my exposal, nothing would give me more satisfaction than to feel your neck snap beneath my hand!"

"Cyclops!" Rogue shouted, running forward.

"No!" he cried. "Keep the necklace away fr-," he broke off into gags as Onslaught's fist tightened around his neck.

"Don't listen child. You can save his life. Just give me what I want."

"You can have it!" Rogue cried, wrenching the necklace from her wrist and dangling it in front of her. "Just leave him alone!"

"Rogue!" Cyclops gasped. "No!"

"Here," she said, marching up to him. She dangled the necklace at him, her blood caked fingers swinging it. He shoved Cyclops back and grabbed at the necklace.

The minute he held it in his hand Rogue grabbed his wrist….

* * *

Alright it's official...I suck at action. I think I'll go back to the clilffhanger transitions.

So hopefully this clears it all up...Professor Xavier's bad half inhabited Magneto for the necklace, and he's(Onslaught) been pulling the strings all along!

To all my reviewers: thanks for keeping me writing- I wouldn't do it if it wasn't for you!


	18. Burn

Disclaimer: Marvel's.

* * *

Remy LeBeau never imagined there would be a day he was a hero. He had made bad choices and worse mistakes, but he had lived with the consequences. He had been moderately happy in his life, first as a thief, then as a mercenary. He just hadn't known then there was something better. 

Lying amidst the rubble of what had once been the beautiful throne room of a megalomaniac's citadel, he realized how easily the roles could have been reversed. He could be the one twisted and evil and beating the snot out of anyone that dared interfered with him…if it hadn't been for her.

He tried to sit up and his head spun wildly. He touched his nose gingerly, fearing it was broken. Where would he be without his pretty looks? He shook that thought out of his head. If Onslaught had his way they'd all be dead, and it wouldn't matter much.

Her cry made him look up. He saw the necklace dangling from Onslaught's outstretched hand, and the fierce look that came over Rogue's face as her hand darted out and she leeched on to him. The look of pure fear and terror that came over Onslaught's face, followed by a pain mirrored in hers. Cyclops's slid out of Onslaught's boneless fingers, coughing and grabbing his throat, his eyes clenched shut. Rogue screamed, the sound so full of anguish that the hairs on the back of Remy's neck stood up. Her eyes were wild, dark and pulsing, even as she tried to pull her hand away. Onslaught's face twisted, his skin pulled taught and glowing with a strange light that washed off him like waves, with Rogue as the shore.

Remy tried to stand, but his legs refused to hold his weight. He began to crawl then, desperately hoping to reach her, agonizingly slow. Bits of brick and plaster scratched at his ribs and legs as he dragged himself across the ground, mere inches from where she was. He looped his fingers around her ankle, pushing up her pants until the smooth skin of her calf was revealed. Then he held on.

* * *

She was lost in a whirlwind of dark, malevolent energy. She had absorbed those she had considered evil before. But never, ever, had she encountered such darkness before. And insanity. The backlash of Onslaught's resistance was staggering in its intensity, the memories that had recoiled and stung her flashing before her like a movie permanently stuck on fast-forwards. Magneto's life. Xavier's life. Onslaught's birth from it. It was terrifying to watch, to have the inner workings of their minds and lives displayed for her to see. Emotions, feelings, sights, sounds, and smells crowded in on her, confusing her, tossing her about and creating a whirling vortex in her mind, as other memories disappeared. The psyches that lived here with her shrunk away in terror, some screaming, others simply disappearing as they too were pulled into the vortex. 

Somewhere among the confusion, a voice was calling out to her. She felt an infusion of warmth, of strength, and then suddenly he was there, inside her mind, his eyes glittering in the swirling mists. The mists cleared suddenly, dissipating into a long purple field. He stood there, alone.

_What are you doing?_ She demanded. She didn't want him here too, but even as she spoke, his memories intermingled with Xavier's and Magneto's, images of a red-eyed boy.

_You can't do this on your own,_ he replied, his voice warm.

_You can't help me. You are just a figment. Just a stolen piece._

_Non,_ he replied, looking around. _I chose to be here. Derefor, I am in here wit' you._

_It doesn't work like that. Ah steal souls, Remy. Even when your body regains consciousness, a bit of you will be in here. A bit that is you, but at the same time isn't. Ah can't explain it._

_Well if de chere really wants to keep me,_ he joked, a smile on his face. _I don't mind stayin'._

_This isn't right. This isn't how it happens. Ah'm not supposed to be trapped in here unless someone else is in control. But Ah'm in control. And you aren't supposed to be anythin' more than…Ah don't know…Ah call them my wisps. See,_ she said, pointing the swirls of colored energy the floated lazily around them.

_That would be courtesy of me. You see, I am nothing more than a mental entity, a psychic being. And since I don't want to be absorbed into your pitiful mind, I took us to the Astral Plane. I don't know, however, how you got here, Mr. LeBeau. _Even his presence was terrifying, large and powerful in the limitless plane.

_Jus' lucky, I guess. _Gambit said, peering at his fingernails as if he had no concerns. He rubbed them on his shirt. _Anyone ever tell you fuchsia is not your color?_

Rogue choked on her laughter, struggling to stand under the weight of the psychic energy still swarming her. She could no longer connect with her body in the real world. Onslaught was standing next to Gambit, who was still chattering away. Onslaught merely smiled tolerantly at him, a look she had seen several times on the Professor. Only this smile turned her blood cold.

Suddenly, Onslaught lashed out, and Gambit fell to the ground, clutching his head. Rogue felt his anguished scream reverberate through the Astral Plane, and then he lay still and silent. Onslaught looked at her, his eyes glinting in the murky atmosphere.

_You shall become the vessel. I grow tired of this weak old man,_ he said, moving towards her. Rogue took a step back, but a wall suddenly formed from the ground, blocking her. _There is no escape. There is only acceptance. And soon there will only be me. _

_Never!_ Rogue said, her heart hammering in her chest. What happened if her mind died here? Would her body still be alive? Would he be able to inhabit the lifeless shell? She moved forward abruptly, dodging around him. Tendrils came up out of the ground, grabbing at her ankles. She fell forward, jarring her chin on the ground, even as she rolled. The tendril yanked her ankle and she let out a cry, even as she tore it from the plane's grip.

_I control this place, Rogue. There is no escape._

Rogue crawled towards Gambit. She grabbed his shoulder and shook viciously. She needed help. She was out of her league. What had she been thinking? That she could absorb him and control him? She shook harder.

Onslaught knelt in front of her, his face almost tender. He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. _You'll like it. You'll see. The power is incredible._

_You are sick! _Rogue screamed, jerking her chin from his grasp and scooting backwards away from him. She rubbed the spot his fingers had touched. It was numb.

_If you resist, it will be worse. You may not survive._

_Why do you care?_

_I don't, _he said, nonchalantly, _but he does._

_Who? Magneto? Xavier?_

_Does it matter? _She could go no further, the tendrils coming up to wrap around her arms, her legs, and her waist. She was held immobile as he knelt before her again, his deep blue eyes gleaming. _Soon you shall be mine, your powers mine! And after that, the world shall be mine. I have the necklace. I have the power. I have it all!_

_Many men have spoken those very words before, Onslaught. And none have lived to tell the tale of their failures._

_You! _Onslaught hissed, turning around. The Professor stood behind him, tall and strong and proud, his eyes narrowed in anger.

_You have hurt too many people this day, Onslaught. I created you. I can destroy you. _His voice was level, even, accepting. Rogue caught a glimpse of the terrible burden he bore, the sadness in his eyes. _You shouldn't be here,_ he said to her. He lifted a hand and a faint blue glow surrounded her and Gambit.

_I chose for them to be here! _Onslaught raged, jerking them back from where they had begun to float. _And I am stronger than you!_

Xavier laughed. _Don't you see how absurd that is? You _are_ me, in a sense. All of me I wished to never embrace. But I accept that, now. I accept you. A man cannot exist without evil. How else would he be good? _

With those words, Onslaught began to fade, to dissipate, his being torn in two. Magneto stumbled free, falling to his knees, his face a white mask of pain, before collapsing into unconsciousness. A mirror image of Xavier stood before the Professor, Onslaught's true being. _I accept you,_ Xavier said, placing his hand out, palm up stretched. _You are me._ Onslaught smiled, and lay his hand on top of Xavier's. The energy around him began to swirl and dance, the psyche glowing with power.

_Professor!_ A voice cried. Rogue turned to see Jean standing there with a strange woman. _No!_

_It's too late. He is gone!_ Onslaught cried, his spirit rushing into Xavier's. The Professor let out a cry, grabbing his head.

_This is not the way! _The strange woman said, rushing forward to stand before Xavier. _This was not your destiny!_

_I make my own destiny, Rachel,_ Onslaught said, grabbing the girl by her throat and lifting her up. _And you have interfered too often. _

_Leave her alone! _Jean cried. She began to glow, a muted blue that quickly changed into a fiery orange. Her hair flowed out behind her, curling and licking her head like flames. Her eyes glowed in the dim light, a fierce, brilliant green. _It is me you want._

_Yes,_ Onslaught said, dropping Rachel. _Come to me, Child of the Light. Your rightful place is with me. Think of the power we'd have, together!_

_I don't need your power, Onslaught!_ Jean cried, levitating. The glow around her formed into flames, her arms outstretched like wings. Her eyes were pure flames, and Rogue was unable to look away, even as she watched in horror as Jean's face changed, an evil smile splitting her face.

_Hear me! No longer am I the woman you once knew! I am Fire! And Life Incarnate! Now and Forever! I am**PHOENIX**._

_No! _Rachel cried, grasping her head as a strange symbol began to glow over her eye. _This isn't right! This isn't right! _She let out a strangled cry as she too burst into flames. They dripped from her skin, clung to her body, lifted her in the air like an offering.

_I am whole!_ Jean cried, her voice echoed, as if she spoke with many. The sound hurt Rogue's ears. _I have the power of universes!_

_You must, _Rachel cried, her one visible eye burning into Rogue with it's intensity, _destroy her. Before it is too late!_

_It is already too late! I am what was, what is, what will bethe Black Angel, **Chaos-Bringer**! IAM**POWER**!_

_What can I do? _Rogue begged.

_There is nothing you can do. I burn through self-deception, I burn through lies, I burn through **LIFE**!_ Flames extended from her figners, curling around Onslaught, cradling him almost tenderly, and lifting him towards her. She grasped her hands onto his face, hers descending, her mouth open. Rogue watched in horror as a brilliant white energy was sucked from Onslaught straight into Jean's open mouth. When it was gone, she dropped Onslaught. Rachel fell as well. Neither moved. Jean turned her eyes on her. The flames were dimmer now, the green showing through. And an incredible sadness.

_Rogue. It is over. Onslaught it gone, forever. _

_Jean? Are you…okay? _It seemed silly to ask, as the other girl stood in full glory, surrounded by flames.

_I…don't know. I don't….think so. _The flames around her were snuffed out and she lowered herself to the ground, sinking, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was shaking. _What happened?_

_You don't know?_ Rogue crawled towards her, sitting beside her and wrapping her arms around the older woman. She felt frail beneath her, and Rogue buried her face in her hair. She began to shake too, as the full weight of what had transpired weighed down on her. _You saved me. You saved us. Hell, _she laughed. _You saved the world._

_I'm scared_, Jean said, her voice low and sad. _They did something to me. Something…I don't know. There's this power in me now. I don't know if I can control it. _

_You'll find a way Jean. You're strong. Stronger than me._

She was silent. They sat there like that, the girl who never needed anyone and the woman that was finding out she needed more than she thought. She closed her eyes, leaning her head on Rogue's arm. She hoped, for all their sake, that she was right.

* * *

Sorry I've been so long in updating. Hope this satisfies ya'll! Oh and P.S. because i didn't explain it last time: the necklace voids Rogue's powers so when she gave it to Onslaught, she could use them again. 

Ishandahalf: You are just too good!

Wen1: I promise more Jott in the sequel.

Ingrid: You can't die before you find out what else happens!

CalliopeMused: Thanks for the constructive criticism, I'll work on making my action more cohesive.

Tara: Glad it's clearer for ya.

Diaz F: Here's another chapter for you!

DemonicGambit: Haha! Look at the donkey with no butt!

Tim: Thank you!

Natural: Um...because he was too tired from using it before? Because he forgot? Or because I forgot? That seems like it is it. Sigh. You caught me:).


	19. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Marvel's.

* * *

Rogue stood on the bridge overlooking the small koi pond. The breeze ruffled her hair lovingly, like a mother soothing a child. She eyed the piece of white that fell across her nose. She reached up and rubbed it between her fingers. She wondered why she had kept it. Maybe it was because she didn't want to forget. But with the nightmares that haunted her, she thought maybe she never would. She sighed and looked into the sky. It was a cold day, the clouds thick and dark with snow. She wanted the pure whiteness to wash away the sins of the world for a while, to blanket her in a safe cocoon.

That night had seemed surreal. It was hard to believe that a mere twenty-four hours had passed. She had come to in her own body, pained and injured as it was. She had re-dislocated her shoulder, broken her nose, and suffered many lacerations, punctures, and bruises. Physically she was the worst of them all. Mentally…well Jean wasn't doing so hot either.

They couldn't find out what the virus had done to her, nor what the Phoenix was. She was under quarantine, being watched by Beast. The Professor and Magneto had disappeared somewhere. They hadn't heard from him since. Most of the new recruits were still around. Kurt was settling in. Emma Frost had been taken to the medical ward for her burns. Sinister and Mystique had gone missing.

They had acquired two other people along the way. The first was a mysterious man who went by just Logan, the man that had brought Xavier to Magneto's citadel. How he knew where it was, or how to contact Xavier, or even why was a mystery. He just hung around, smoking cigars and casting everyone stony glances. The other was the psychic energy Rachel. It appeared that her being in the Astral Plane during the time that Onslaught was vanquished created a sort of Limbo for her, in which her mind stayed in the present, while her future body traveled through a wormhole created when her timeline vanished. She was adjusting as best as she could, leaving behind everything she ever knew and loved and trying to survive twenty years in the past. She hadn't said exactly what her relationship to the X-men was, except that she knew Wolverine, but the resemblance to Jean was striking and very apparent.

Then, there was Gambit. He had stuck around for a few hours, joking with easy camaraderie, even allowing Beast to run a few tests on him. But he refused to talk about his apparent power boost and his lack of control. Jean had asked him why he hadn't roasted Onslaught on the spot, to which he had casually replied, he didn't want to kill everyone in the room. He hadn't spoken to Rogue. Rogue hadn't spoken to him. And she didn't want to.

Or so she kept telling herself.

She started when someone's hand descended on her shoulder. It was Scott. His face was tired, lined. He had been running things with the Professor gone, a lot to shoulder for a seventeen year old boy. He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin, and rested his arms on the rail beside her.

"You holding up okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. You?" she said.

He shrugged. "Seems funny that the world can be so unchanged with what we went through." He looked at her. "I want Jean to take a look at you when you are ready. You absorbed Onslaught twice. You can't be…unscathed from that."

Rogue shrugged and turned away.

"How's Jean?" she watched Scott's face harden, and he stared into the pond. The large orange fish swam around happily, their tails moving too and fro. Soon it would be time to move them indoors, so they wouldn't freeze in the water.

"She…won't talk to me. Or anyone." He couldn't keep the hurt from his voice. He had protected her after all. That's what he was mad at. Wasn't it? He rested his head on his forearms.

"Ah'm sorry," Rogue said, so quiet he wasn't sure he had heard her right. He looked up at her, catching her eyes through his ruby visors. She had proven herself to him, sacrificing the necklace to Onslaugth. Absorbing him. He had been unable to appreciate it then, but she had come back with them. Had sat white and silent in the back of the plane, staring straight ahead. He wondered what she had seen. But she had come back with them.

"Beast is experimenting with the necklace. I told him he should just bury the piece of shit. But he said there might be something he could learn from it. Something to help you." She looked away from him, the emotions on her face raw.

"There is no help for me." She threw a rock in the pond, and the fish swam away.

"There's always help. You have to ask for it. That's what gives us hope."

"You never give up, do you?" she asked him. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Always lookin' for the sunny side. The world has shit on you, Scott Summers, and you smear it all over yourself and ask for me because you ain't completely covered yet."

"That's an…interesting analogy." He couldn't keep the laughter from his voice. "I am optimistic Rogue, because without it I'd break down and cry."

Rogue snorted. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Ah ain't for all this bonding shit. Ah've had a little too much of it, lately."

Scott let out a short bark of laughter. "Well, Kurt just wants to get to know the sister that saved him." Rogue rolled her eyes.

"Ah ain't his sister."

"Tell him that," Scott replied. Rogue looked calmer now, her face more serene. "He's still here, you know."

She looked up, her face a mask of indifference. "Where else would Kurt go?"

"Not Kurt. Remy."

"Oh. Yeah?"

"He's thinking about staying." He watched her shoulders hitch up.

"Hope we have enough towels."

"It's okay if you don't. Remy can just steal them," he said, coming up behind them. He nodded at Cyclops, a brief, firm motion of his head. Scott tilted his chin, as much as he would give the man.

"I have places to be," Scott said, slipping off. Gambit stood next to Rogue, looking lost. Rogue stared ahead at the water. Behind them, the sun began to set on the old day, bringing with it new promises, and new hope.

* * *

Well that's it folks. But stayed tuned for the sequel: Razorblade Romance. 


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